
Training Journal – Nina the St. Bernard
By Wes Schlosser – a Wes Dog (Savannah, GA)
📞 912-674-1277
Today’s lesson brought me face-to-face with Nina, a St. Bernard weighing well over 100 pounds. Her owners had called me in for one very clear reason: Nina was showing aggression—towards both people and other dogs.
When I arrived, the first sound that met me was the deep, resonant bark of a dog sequestered in the garage. Through the window, I caught sight of her—a massive figure, standing broad and tall, announcing her discomfort with each sharp, guttural bark. It was immediately clear that Nina was not a dog I could approach or place hands on right away. The owners described her behavior as fear-based aggression, but whatever the root cause, the reality was the same: she was capable, willing, and rehearsed in making people back away.
And so, the work began.
Step One: Establishing Safety Through Equipment
When dealing with an aggressive dog, safety must always come first—not only for myself, but for the dog and the owners. I needed Nina to be on secure equipment that would not fail under pressure. I handed her owner two collars: a sturdy flat collar with an O-ring, and a dominant dog collar. These would serve as anchors. The flat collar would connect to a cable tie-out line, and the dominant dog collar would connect to a long line, giving us layered control.
The owner, not me, went into the garage to place the collars and attach the leash. This detail is important. A stranger attempting to collar an aggressive dog can quickly escalate the situation. Owners must learn to handle their dogs confidently and safely, so I coached from a distance.
When Nina entered the house, collared and on leash, she carried her nervousness like a heavy cloak. Each time our eyes met, she erupted with sharp, forceful barks, throwing her weight forward in protest.
Step Two: Testing Drives & Initial Responses
I wanted to know what kind of motivators we might have at our disposal. Food? Prey? Curiosity? I offered hot dog pieces via the owner. Nina took the treat, but her attention never left me. Food drive was present, but not overpowering—certainly not enough to override the suspicion in her eyes.
The walls of the house seemed to close her in, heightening her tension. We moved outside into the open air, where space often acts as a balm, easing the pressure a dog feels indoors.
Step Three: Pressure & Release – The Cable Leash System
Out in the yard, I anchored a cable leash around a small tree and clipped it to the flat collar. The long line remained attached to the dominant dog collar, giving me leverage.
When I approached, the transformation was immediate—Nina lunged, barked, and hurled her mass forward. A magnificent display of force, one that had likely succeeded many times before in pushing the world away.
But this time, it did not succeed.
At my signal, the owner gave a firm “No.” I pulled the long line taut, holding her steady between anchor and handler. After only a few seconds, Nina yielded—her bark ceased, her muscles softened ever so slightly—and I released the pressure. Silence brought relief.
We repeated the process. Approach, explosion, pressure. Silence, release. Slowly, her mind began to map the pattern. On the third approach, she fixed her eyes on me, filled with fire but withholding her voice. She was learning that stillness, though difficult, could be the better choice.
Her sides heaved, her mouth opened into a pant—small signals of her stress loosening. Around her, the yard was alive with small sounds of nature, and for the first time she seemed to register them rather than drown them out with her own voice.
Step Four: Decompression & Testing Boundaries
We allowed Nina to sit quietly at the end of the cable leash while I continued speaking with her owner. She was tethered, unable to flee, yet not forced into conflict. This quiet coexistence is where much of the learning occurs.
I tested her again with subtle provocations—approaching in different ways, shifting posture, leaning slightly forward. Each time, she chose quiet over chaos. When her owner came to stand beside her, I anticipated a possible spike in reactivity. Instead, Nina stayed composed. She even took food from her owner’s hand, her jaw working loosely, her eyes softer.
There was progress. Small, delicate, but undeniable.
Step Five: Owner Handling & Mechanics
Training Nina was only half the task. Teaching her owners the mechanics of handling was equally vital. We rehearsed the steps:
Stepping on the long line for security
Clipping and unclipping the cable tie-out
Carrying the leash draped over a shoulder
Allowing Nina the full range of the long line, then calling her back
Her recall was inconsistent, as expected. Once she ignored, the leash was tightened, and she was guided back. The moment she complied, praise followed. A simple rhythm—wrong choice, pressure; right choice, relief and encouragement.
These repetitions not only taught Nina but also built her owners’ confidence. Their motions became smoother, their timing more precise.
Step Six: Walk & Socialization
At last, we set off for a neighborhood walk. Side by side, we moved down the street, the massive St. Bernard now in step with her family. I walked close, brushing past her shoulder, even grazing her with my hand. She accepted it. Her body language had softened, her breathing steady, her movements less stiff.
The world around her—cars, people in the distance, the shifting shadows of trees—was no longer a blur of threats. Instead, it was something she could move through. Her owners, too, relaxed visibly. The intimidating edge of their companion had dulled. They were beginning to see the dog beneath the behavior.
Returning home, Nina drank deeply from her bowl and lay quietly in the kitchen. For the first time since I had arrived, she seemed fully at ease in my company.
Reflection
Nina is not a dog who wishes to be aggressive. She is a dog caught between uncertainty and instinct, relying on the one tool she knows—intimidation—to remove discomfort. Today, we showed her that aggression no longer works, and that calmness is the way forward.
Progress with such a dog does not come from force, nor from avoidance, but from carefully arranged moments where success is possible. Equipment, timing, patience—all laid down like scaffolding, allowing a dog to discover new ways of being.
