Hi, I'm Jackie.

​

And, like approximately 97% of people who end up working with dogs, my story begins with being completely obsessed with them as a kid.

I wanted to be a vet. I read dog breed books for fun. I had an ever-growing list of all the dogs I was going to own when I was older, despite being about nine and having absolutely no say in the matter.

My first dog (the family dog) was a German Shepherd named Pepper, and I can thank her patience and gentleness for starting my obsession. But, I wanted a dog of my own. Eventually, after what I'm sure was an entirely reasonable and not at all relentless campaign of harassment, my parents agreed.

But there was one condition;  I had to prove I could look after Pepper completely on my own for a year. Walking, feeding, picking up poop, the lot. My parents were fairly confident I wouldn't last.

I did.

So, when I was 12, I got Mischa.

​

Enter Mischa

Mischa was a Siberian Husky puppy from a pet shop, and from the moment she came home, she was... a problem.

She was supremely confident, highly opinionated and resource guarded just about everything. Food. Toys. Socks. Things on the kitchen counter that she couldn't even physically reach. Literally anything!

As she got older, what started as growling and snapping progressed into serious aggression. At her worst, she would launch herself at us and bite repeatedly for daring to walk through the same room while she was guarding something. She had significant handling issues and would not hesitate to bite if you touched her when she didn't want to be touched. It became commonplace for someone in the family to take a visit to the local doctor’s office for wound flushes, antibiotics and a tetanus injection.

Honestly, as I’m writing this, I can’t help but wonder what on earth we were thinking in keeping her. But we loved her, and we desperately wanted to make things better. From the day she came home we’d joined the local dog training club, and we trained diligently. When that didn’t solve the problem, we sought help from private trainers. But things just kept getting worse.

And so began my lifelong obsession with trying to figure out why dogs do the things they do, and more importantly, what the hell you are supposed to do about it.

​

I have been wrong about dog training. A lot.

My first real training obsession was, yes, The Dog Whisperer (go easy on me. I was a teenager).

I watched Cesar Milan religiously, and to be completely fair, applying some of what I learned genuinely improved Mischa's life and ours. I was hooked. Mischa went everywhere with me, and I became increasingly fascinated by behaviour and training.

Then I went to university to study Animal Science and my entire approach changed again. I discovered books like Don't Shoot the Dog, The Culture Clash and When Pigs Fly. I discovered clicker training, shaping and what was then commonly referred to as "purely positive" training.

And naturally, because I was young and had just discovered a new way of thinking about things, I became completely convinced that this was it. I had finally figured out dog training, and everyone else was wrong.

Studying science also taught me something that has stuck with me ever since: having a strong opinion is not the same thing as having all the information.

Ironically, having access to research and journal articles was also what eventually made me start questioning some of the claims being made by the positive-only side of the industry. I kept hearing that the science was settled and that one particular approach had all the evidence behind it.

When I started reading the evidence myself, I found the picture was considerably more complicated. Around the same time, I stumbled across a trainer called Michael Ellis on YouTube. I still remember the goosebumps I got as I watched one video of him training and playing with his dog. Something clicked in my head, much the same way it did when I watched that first episode of the Dog Whisperer.

And thus a new era began; sport dog training consumed my life.

​

Then I started training other people's dogs.

While I was at university, I worked in vet nursing, grooming and kennels and began helping family and friends with their dogs. I charged about $20 for a lesson. And, again, I thought I knew everything. And, again, I was proved very wrong.

Really, my entire career can be summed up as ‘The Dunning-Kruger Effect in Action’.

​

At 22, I moved to the United States.

Partly because of a relationship, and partly because I was completely consumed by the world of sport dog training and that was where Michael Ellis was. I began training full time and travelled throughout the United States, working alongside trainers with wildly different backgrounds, philosophies and approaches.

I was exposed to people who knew far more than I did, who had dogs with better training than I’d ever seen or experienced up until that point, and so I eventually did what I think every dog trainer has to do at some point.

I shut up and listened. It was one of the best learning experiences of my life.

I became particularly fascinated by foundational training and the idea that many of the skills traditionally developed for high drive sport dogs could be incredibly useful for pet dogs too. Things like building motivation, teaching dogs how to engage, developing play, creating clarity and giving dogs appropriate outlets for their genetics and natural behaviour.

At the same time, the internet was beginning to make learning from trainers all over the world more accessible than ever. Many of the people I'd previously only heard about were starting to release courses and educational content. And I consumed all of it.

​

In 2018, I moved back to Australia and started AbiK9.

I settled in the Northern Rivers and began offering puppy classes, private lessons, board and trains and eventually boarding as well. But these days, things look a little different.

I've slowly tapered things back to private lessons so I can focus more on my own dogs and family. Because, as it turns out, having a house full of other people's dogs is considerably easier in your twenties!

​

So, how do I train?

This is usually the part where trainers tell you which label they identify with. Balanced. Force free. Positive reinforcement. LIMA. Relationship based, etc. But thus far, there is no label which truly encompasses how nuanced training really is, and how adaptable good trainers need to be to get the best out of everyone.

Science gives us an incredible amount of information about learning, behaviour, genetics and the likely effects of different approaches. But the practical application of that information involves an enormous number of variables. As the saying goes, real life isn’t a Skinners box.

My job isn't to fit every dog and every person into one particular training philosophy, it's to find the approach that best improves the lives of both. In many ways, I see myself as a relationship coach or therapist. My job is to find the middle ground between what the human needs from their dog and what the dog needs to live a happy, fulfilled life.

That might involve food, toys, play, markers, shaping and motivational training. I'm a huge believer in relationship building and finding appropriate ways for dogs to express the behaviours they were bred to perform. It might also involve management, boundaries, pressure or corrections.

I don't believe any particular tool or method is inherently the answer to every problem, nor do I believe that banning entire categories of training automatically makes you a better trainer. I believe in understanding the potential benefits and downsides of the options available, and using that knowledge to make the best decision I can for the individual dog and human in front of me. This often means combing approaches or changing course completely.

And sometimes it means having an honest conversation about what is realistically achievable.

One thing I am particularly interested in is aggression and serious behavioural issues. My background in biting sports has given me a strong understanding of genetics, arousal, the role of pressure, motivation, etc., and I'm comfortable working with dogs that are not always easy or straightforward.

But I also love puppies. And pet dogs who pull on the lead. And dogs that won't come when called because there's something far more interesting happening nearby. And ensuring that people actually enjoy living with their dogs!  

​

And the dogs?

These days, I have four of them. Two are rescues, one came from a breeder, and one came to live with me after his owner passed away. They are all wildly different, all full of personality, and all very useful for indulging whatever training obsession I currently have.

Between them, we dabble in tricks, sports, scent work and plenty of experimental "I wonder if I can teach this?" projects. They're also regularly roped into lessons as demo dogs and helpers, particularly when working with reactive or socially sensitive dogs.

You can meet them all below.

​

Mischa is gone now, but she was my heart dog.

​

She lived through every phase of my training evolution. She tolerated my terrible early attempts at fixing her behaviour, my Cesar Milan phase, my clicker training obsession, my free shaping experiments and eventually my deep dive into motivational and sport dog training.

​

Somehow, despite all of that, she remained my dog.

​

And I suppose, in a way, she is the reason you're reading this page.

​

If she'd been easy, who knows what I'd be doing now.

​

​