The 3 Books That Made Me a Better Dog Trainer (and none were about dogs)

Look, I don't know about you, but 2025 and the beginning of 2026 has been... a lot.

The world feels like it's on fire (sometimes literally), the news cycle is giving us all whiplash, and I'm pretty sure my stress levels could power a small city at this point. So what have I been doing to cope with the absolute hellscape that is modern existence?

Reading books about crows, wolves, and elephants, obviously.

Because when the world gets too loud, too fast, and too much, sometimes the best thing you can do is disappear into stories about beings who have their shit together way better than we do. And plot twist: these books didn't just help me survive 2025: they completely changed how I train dogs, work with people, and generally exist as a human on this chaotic planet.

People are always shocked when I tell them I'm an avid reader. I think they assume dog trainers only read textbooks with titles like Advanced Operant Conditioning or 1001 Ways to Make a Labrador Sit. And sure, I love a good nerdy dog book (give me all the behavior studies, I'm here for it). But the books that shaped me most as a trainer this year? Not a single one came from the dog section.

These three books changed how I see dogs, humans, nature, and honestly... time itself.

Also, one of them made me cry on a park bench in broad daylight, so buckle up.

1. Comfort of Crows

A Masterclass in Slowing the Hell Down

This book is basically a love letter to paying attention. To seasons. To the fact that nothing (and I mean nothing) worthwhile happens on a rushed timeline.

In a world screaming "DO MORE! FIX FASTER! WHY ISN'T YOUR DOG PERFECT YET?!", Comfort of Crows gently grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Hey. What if you just... stopped?"

It reminded me that nature doesn't operate on my Google Calendar. Trees don't panic about their growth timeline. Birds don't have productivity coaches. And yet somehow, everything still happens exactly when it's supposed to.

The dog training takeaway?

Dogs don't heal, learn, or regulate on our schedule. They move in cycles. Some weeks are about growth. Some weeks are about rest. And some weeks? Some weeks are just survival snacks and vibes, and that's okay.

This book made me a more patient trainer. A more observant human. And the kind of person who now notices which birds show up at which time of year. (I did not ask for this personality development, but here we are, identifying sparrows like some kind of suburban naturalist.)

If you're the type who gets frustrated when your dog isn't "fixed" after three training sessions, this book will lovingly remind you that behavior change is a season, not a sprint.

2. The Reign of Wolf 21

Wolves, Leadership, and Why "Alpha" Isn't What You Think

This book wrecked me. In the best way.

The Reign of Wolf 21 tells the story of one of the most successful wolves in Yellowstone history. And in doing so, it quietly dismantles every outdated dominance myth we're still dragging around in the dog world like emotional support luggage.

Here's the kicker: Wolf 21 is widely considered one of the greatest "alphas" ever. His pack grew massive. They thrived. They survived. But he wasn't some aggressive, iron-fisted dictator ruling through fear and intimidation.

He was collaborative. Attuned. Calm. Consistent.

The most successful wolf packs weren't led by the loudest, toughest, or most controlling wolves. They were led by cooperative male-female pairs who focused on cohesion, not control. They built trust. They regulated each other. They led without aggression.

And, shockingly (that's sarcasm) …those packs thrived.

Why this matters for dog training:

Real leadership isn't about being the boss. It's about relationship. It's about offering structure, safety, and direction without intimidation or force.

When I first started training, so much of the conversation was around dominance. "Show your dog who's boss." "You have to be the alpha." "Never let them on the couch or they'll take over."

I'm so grateful I never bought into that. Because what actually works and what has always worked is cooperation.

This book reminded me that we don't need to dominate our dogs. We need to lead them with understanding, clarity, and calm confidence. The kind of leadership that doesn't need to shout to be heard.

Also, it made me cry on that park bench I mentioned earlier. You've been warned.

3. Beyond Words

Animals Are Fluent, Humans Are Just... Really Loud

If Beyond Words did anything for me, it was this: it knocked humans off the imaginary pedestal we put ourselves on.

This book shares story after story of elephants, wolves, and killer whales communicating, cooperating, grieving, and forming relationships with humans in ways that are so clear, so intentional, it's almost embarrassing how often we miss it.

Elephants don't just recognize individual humans: they remember them. Years later. Across distances. They respond differently based on past interactions, tone of voice, posture, energy. Some approach gently. Some warn. Some protect. Some grieve with us.

And they do it all without words.

Killer whales? Same deal. They have family structures, dialects, traditions, and coordinated behaviors that require an insane amount of trust and shared understanding. There are documented moments of orcas slowing down for humans, mirroring movement, offering objects, and choosing connection without being trained, bribed, or forced.

Reading this made one thing painfully obvious:

Animals are not failing to communicate with us. We are failing to listen.

Humans rely so heavily on language that we've completely dulled our ability to read what's happening right in front of us. We miss the pause. The shift in breath. The subtle turn away. The invitation. The warning.

And then we have the audacity to label animals as "unpredictable" or "emotional" when in reality, they were being incredibly clear.

The dog training wake-up call:

How often do dogs show us exactly how they're feeling. Through body language, movement, energy, long before they bark, lunge, shut down, or explode?

This book reminded me that behavior is communication, not defiance.

It made me slower to correct and quicker to observe. More interested in why than how fast can we stop this? It reinforced that regulation and safety come before obedience. That trust is built when animals feel seen, not managed.

Honestly, this book made me realize that animals aren't "less evolved" emotionally; they're just less distracted. They're present. They're honest. They respond to what's real, not what we wish was happening.

Which explains why dogs, elephants, and killer whales often understand us better than we understand them.

If we'd just quiet down a little... they've been talking the whole time.

Final Thoughts:

Turns Out, the Dogs Were Right All Along

If there's a common thread between Comfort of Crows, The Reign of Wolf 21, and Beyond Words, it's this:

Slow down. Pay attention. And stop assuming you're the smartest one in the room.

Nature doesn't rush. Wolves don't lead through force. Animals don't need words to communicate clearly. And dogs (despite living in our very loud, very busy human world) are still trying their best to meet us where we are.

These books reminded me that good training isn't about control, domination, or perfection. It's about relationship. It's about cooperative leadership, emotional safety, and understanding the rhythms of the beings we live alongside.

They also gently (okay, sometimes not-so-gently) reminded me that when something isn't working, the answer usually isn't do more. It's listen better.

So if you're feeling stuck with your dog, overwhelmed by advice, or tempted by quick fixes, maybe the most radical thing you can do is slow down, observe, and lead with curiosity instead of control.

Your dog has been communicating with you this whole time.

We just have to get quiet enough to hear it. 🐾✨

P.S. If you need me, I'll be outside identifying birds and having emotional breakdowns about wolves.

Personal growth is a journey, y'all.