Epic Dog is Laure and Lina.

From Nice, 36. The sun is in my blood and I packed it in my suitcase. One day I left everything behind for love: my people, the sea, my language… my whole life, really. Off to Germany. New country, new language, new life. Total immersion, at home and at work. Sound like anyone you know? Hang on, you’ll see.

What I hadn’t planned on: falling in love a second time. With this incredible border region, where I live between three cultures and where I’ve made wonderful friends in Alsace, Basel and the Black Forest.

I’ve always had animals around me. Horses, dogs, cats. My first dog was Lili, my parents’ carrot to get me working at school. “Good grades, and you get a dog.” In one term I went from a C average to an A. Turns out that with the right motivation, people work miracles. Thanks Lili: because of you, I became an engineer.

So when everything finally lined up here in Germany for getting a dog, I didn’t hesitate for a second. Honestly, with animals, “I’ve got this, it’s in my bones”.

WRONG

Lina left everything behind too. At 7 months old she crossed Europe, from her shelter in Romania to our place in Germany. New country, new language, new life. I told you this story would sound familiar. Except nobody asked her what she thought about it.

Because here was our reality back then: in the human world, Lina was afraid of everything. The house, the town, lorries, trailers, motorbikes, anything flapping in the wind. She wanted to run. Even a tiny village market or eating outside a café was hard.

And the moment we were out in nature? There she was completely at ease. So at ease that she went hunting. Not bouncing after game: chasing, catching, killing. She even took a bird in town, on a short lead. Can you picture it? This dog was Mowgli. Straight out of the jungle.

With Lina I was living the worst of both worlds. With Lina, every outing was a chore.

I understood nothing about this dog. She understood nothing about her new life. So I did what everyone does: group classes, group walks, even agility lessons.

The result? I learned things. But nothing that actually answered what Lina and I were living through every day.

And I worked something out fast: if I didn’t take this into my own hands, the life I’d pictured with my dog would look nothing like my actual one. Heavy days, always uphill. Van trips? Forget it. My life was going to shrink, get smaller and more constrained, built entirely around my dog’s fears or her hunting.

NOT A CHANCE.

I realised I was going to have to learn this myself. Find the answers. Really understand her. Three trainer qualifications later, here I am.

Bit by bit, we widened Lina’s comfort zone. Not by avoiding the world: by using it. Every opportunity life handed us became our training ground. Everywhere, every day.

And the hunting? Instead of blocking her instinct, I gave it a frame so she could use it and let it out. Because your dog was born with his abilities. His whole body was built for them. You can’t stop him being who he is. You can only give him room to be it, and decide when, how and where that’s allowed. You have to meet his needs, however they show up. Because if you don’t meet them, he’ll meet them himself. And you usually won’t like how.

So I turned her “problem” into a “superpower”, with activities where she’s allowed to use it: mantrailing and nosework. And on the game side, we went much further. The result: these days we watch wild animals. Both of us.

All the more reason. Imagine what he could become when you’re not starting from zero. I started from minus ten. And if you’re getting ready to bring a dog home: you get to do it right from day one. I got everything wrong. Everything. Not one part of it worked.

Except one thing: I never gave up.