I failed my first PDC attempt. Not because my dog wasn’t ready, but because my system wasn’t.
I had trained for months. Our obedience was solid. Our bitework was dialed in. We drilled the patterns over and over – from the wedge to the sleeve to the suit. I worked on my own and with trainers, putting in the reps. Everyone said we were ready.
So I booked a trial with the Ronin Bite Club outside of LA for October 3rd. We traveled there, did a dry run the night before, and figured out where the field was. The next morning, I showed up confident.
Then I saw the parking lot was a couple hundred yards from the trial field.
When it was our turn, I grabbed the ball on a string and used it to hype him up on the walk from the parking lot to the field, building arousal with every step on a walk that was way longer than anything we’d ever done in training. When I should have been calming him (and myself!) down, I was amping us up.
By the time we got to the in-gate, his arousal was already high, and so was mine.
At the in-gate, I I dropped the ball literally and figuratively (since you’re not supposed to have any rewards on the field with you) and started walking down the long side toward the start cone. That’s when I felt it: the tension in my body, the queasiness in my gut, and the anxiety sending my shoulders up toward my ears.
And my dog felt it too.
Instead of focusing on me, he started scanning for threats. Because he sensed I was tense, and when mom’s tense, he takes matters into his own hands. Then he saw it – a sleeve on the outside of the fence. That was it. Game over. He locked onto that sleeve, pulling, completely focused on the distraction instead of me.
The judge kept saying, “Stop correcting your dog. Stop correcting your dog.”
And I just got more tense.
We made it to the start cone. The steward asked, “Handler, are you ready?” I gave a thumbs up. We barely got through the figure-8, and we didn’t even make it to the down in the middle of the cones when I made the call to pull him and not continue.
Looking back, nothing about that day was a training problem.
It was a nervous system load, recovery, and state problem – both mine and his.
What Traditional Training Misses
Most handlers and trainers focus on reps. Obedience. Drive building. Corrections. Equipment shedding drills. They track whether the dog “knows” the behavior, whether you’ve drilled it enough, whether your timing is good.
However, they’re often not tracking nervous system load, recovery capacity, and state regulation.
Nobody asks: Where are your eyes right now? Do you feel your feet on the ground before you pick up the leash? Are you holding tension in your jaw, your shoulders, your chest?
And here’s the thing that changes everything: Your nervous system and your dog’s nervous system are co-regulating in real time.
Dogs sense our stress hormones. They feel the micro-tensions in our muscles that we’re not even aware of. They hear our heart rate. They read our state 24/7. And when your system dysregulates, theirs follows—especially with sensitive herding breeds like German Shepherds and Malinois that have been bred for hundreds of years to be in tune with their humans.
No amount of training can override that.
The question no one’s asking is: Was the system regulated enough to access the training?
Not just the dog’s system. Yours too.
The Framework: Regulation > Clarity > Control
Regulation Comes First
Your nervous system state directly influences your dog’s state. When you’re anxious, they feel it. When you’re dysregulated, they respond by scanning their environment, reacting to it, not focusing on you, and kicking into drive that then overrides their mental clarity and ability to take on new information.
You can’t think your way into regulation. You can’t just “decide” to be calm and expect your dog to respond differently. Your dog reads your physiology, not your intentions.
Most “training problems” are actually regulation problems in disguise.
I see this with dogs too – they can become dysregulated in training. High drive can override clarity. And what do most people do when the dog is so far in drive that they’re not being clear? They add more control. Turn up the stim on the e-collar. Apply more pressure with the prong.
Those tools have their place. I’m a balanced trainer – I believe in them, especially with high-drive working dogs. But turning up the stim when a dog is dysregulated is not the answer.
What I do instead is take a step back and look at where the dog is going over threshold. Where are they becoming dysregulated? I look at their bodily tension, stride length, and tension patterns in their body, because tension in the body leads to tension in the brain.
Regulation isn’t optional. It’s foundational.
Clarity Emerges From Regulation
When both your nervous system and your dog’s are regulated, communication becomes clear.
Your cues land differently. Your timing improves. Your dog can actually hear you—because they’re settled in their body and their brain. They’re in thinking mode, not drive-drive-drive mode.
Clarity isn’t about being a better communicator. It’s about being regulated enough that communication can happen.
And clarity also means you, the handler, can think clearly enough to break things down into smaller pieces when needed. You can see what your dog actually needs instead of just drilling the same pattern harder.
Control Is The Outcome, Not The Starting Point
Control without regulation looks like relying on equipment – more e-collar, more prong pressure. And when you have to shed that equipment on the trial field, things can come apart. You can train equipment-shedding drills, sure. But I’d rather build enough of a foundation where I don’t need to rely on those tools on trial day.
Control with regulation is flow. Partnership. Performance that feels easy.
It’s not wondering, “Oh shit, what’s he gonna do now that the e-collar’s off?”
The obedience was always there. It just couldn’t express under that much system load.
What Changed After Our Last PDC Attempt
I haven’t had the opportunity to trial again since that first PDC attempt. But I know how I’ll approach my next trial differently.
First, I’ll make sure I’m resourced going into it. That first trial, I was already under-resourced—up early, stressed, running on fumes. This time, I’m making sure that both my dog and I are resourced. For me, this looks like grounding practices, making sure that I get a good night’s sleep, dialing in my nutrition – that sort of thing. Something as simple as noticing where my eyes are, whether I’m holding tension, or whether I feel my feet on the ground helps.
I’ll also do some myofascial and massage work on my dog to make sure that I’ve addressed any tension patterns in his body that could possibly affect his mental state, and I’ll pay attention to his management and environmental load. Am I walking him around an outdoor shopping mall right before we trial? Or are we training on private property with no distractions? My own nervous system state is going to vary depending on the training environment, and I need to account for that.
I’ll monitor our arousal on the walk-in. No more ball-hyping for 200 yards. I’ll be checking in with my own body, my dog’s body, staying present instead of letting anxiety build.
And when we’re regulated together, we work better. We’re in flow. I have to rely less on corrections, less on control equipment.
We can access the training that was always there.
What This Means For You
There are no “suddenly reactive” dogs. No dogs that are “suddenly distracted” or “not listening.”
There are signals they give before they escalate. A tightening of the body. A head lift. Their head turning away. The tail coming up over their back. A shift in stride length.
And here’s the hard truth: Emotions travel down the leash.
If you’re expecting your dog to blow up, you’re going to be a little more tense on that leash. And they’re going to feel it.
The behaviors you’re trying to train out might be your dog’s accurate response to your dysregulation. Especially with herding breeds that are tuned into their handlers’ nervous systems such as German Shepherds or Malinois. They’re going to be far more sensitive to your state than, say, a Labrador or a Golden Retriever with a thicker emotional skin.
Performance isn’t just about reps. It’s about system capacity to access those reps under pressure.
I saw that firsthand. I had trained and trained and trained. But as soon as the pressure ramped up, my system’s capacity to access that training—and my dog’s—evaporated.
So what would change if you stopped trying to train your dog into control, and started regulating your way into clarity?
You’d stop fighting your dog’s nervous system and start working with it. You’d notice the small signals before they become big reactions—the head turn, the tension shift, the tail coming up—and you’d pause to regulate instead of correct.
You’d check your body first: Where are my eyes? Am I holding tension? Is my breath shallow?
You’d approach training sessions differently. Instead of “we need to get these reps in,” you’d ask: “Is my system regulated enough to train right now? Is my dog’s?” You’d value a shorter session where you both stayed regulated over a longer session where you pushed through dysregulation.
On trial day, you wouldn’t just drill the pattern one more time. You’d ground yourself first. Feel your feet. Breathe. Notice where you’re holding tension. You’d manage arousal on the walk to the line—calming instead of hyping.
You’d trust that the training is there when the nervous system can access it.
And most importantly: you’d stop blaming your dog for “not listening” and start recognizing when their behavior is actually an accurate read of your state.
The Work I Do Now
This is why my Performance Assessments start with both handler and canine nervous system evaluation—not just looking at what the dog does wrong.
When I’m working with a handler-dog team for the first time, I’m watching how they interact. Is the handler trying to control the dog? Are they letting them run around? What’s the dynamic between them?
With the dog, I’m looking at how they move. Are they pushing off their hindquarters or more front-end heavy? Where are they locked up and tense—neck, lumbar area, shoulders, hips? I watch them move off-leash first, then on-leash at a walk and trot, moving away from me, toward me, and laterally so I can assess their movement patterns and tension holds.
I’m also looking at what they’re eating, because nutrition affects nervous system regulation. And I’ll often do some hands-on bodywork—myofascial release, proprioceptive work—right in that initial session so both handler and dog can see what “before and after” looks like when we free up tension.
Ongoing work includes regulation practices for both handler and dog. For handlers: grounding exercises, breathwork, somatic awareness, noticing where tension lives in the body. For dogs: bodywork, movement exercises, sometimes calming supplements to bring their anxiety baseline down.
When handler and dog regulate together, everything changes.
The training you’ve been drilling suddenly becomes accessible. Your dog can think instead of just react. You stop fighting each other and start working as a team. Performance becomes flow instead of force.
Your timing gets better. Your feel improves. You’re not managing behavior problems anymore—you’re developing a partnership.
And the best part? You start to trust each other again.
Your dog isn’t broken. Your training isn’t wrong. The system just needs support to do what it already knows how to do.
If you’re struggling with a performance issue that feels like a training problem—reactivity, focus issues, drive that won’t turn off, obedience that falls apart under pressure—I’d love to talk. My Performance Assessments give us three hours to look at both your nervous system and your dog’s, identify where the dysregulation is happening, and build a roadmap for Regulation > Clarity > Control.
Here’s the link to book a Performance Assessment
Or just reply and tell me: What’s your biggest frustration right now with your dog’s performance or behavior? I read every message.