All in and online

Losing my job was not on my2025 bingo card

The position of self employed dog trainer is a precarious one. Especially as my days of crawling around on the floor with a puppy or bracing myself for an encounter with a boisterous bully are not quite over, but are certainly slower and more painful. Add to that a house move 450 miles away from my in person clients, and suddenly I made the leap to taking all my work online.

Ahead of the curve

I’d opened an online school in 2018, two years before the rest of my profession were pushed online during the pandemic. It was a great way for me to connect with folks in other counties and countries. It was the perfect add on to my in person workshops and consultations, and made me a nice extra bit of income. Post pandemic and the landscape changed dramatically. Trainers had learned very quickly that online dog training was not only possible but effective. Suddenly my online niche wasn’t so niche.

On the face of it dog training has always been a competitive marketplace. Lots of trainers all offering the same thing. In reality, I found very little competition. There were more than enough clients to keep us all busy. Each trainer had their pros and cons for each client. Whether it was location, services or training methodology clients had choice and variety. They could visit classes, attend taster sessions and ask their friends for recommendations. I too had a choice of trainers to refer clients to when I had no availability or when they offered services I didn’t. It all worked very well.

Online is different. Online is hussle. And sales funnels. And funny videos. It’s self-promotion without self aggrandisement. It’s demonstrating success without promising life changing results. It’s talking about the story, the benefits and the emotion rather than the curriculum, the practise and the bumps in the road. As ever, I negotiate my business life with as much honestly and integrity as I can manage. Online gurus are against this. They want false openness. Invite people into your life in order to sell them stuff. Let them watch as you prepare breakfast (yes, I have done this - nobody cared. Quite rightly.) Invent problems for them that only you can solve. When I suggested to one guru that people might just like to learn a new skill for the fun of it I was laughed out of the chatroom. How could I sell a non essential, pleasurable, ‘fun’ (a much disapproved of word in the online course community) product? They just couldn’t understand the value. I was talking into a void, so as usual when it comes to business ‘experts’ I ignored most of their waffle and went my own way.

All in

Now, seven years on, 90% of my business is my online Detector Dog School. (Did I mention I teach people how to turn their companion dogs into detector dogs?) I’d followed the advice of the platform I’d chosen to host my school and so had tried running online communities, offering online coaching, bringing in more short courses, adding downloadable resources. Some of their suggestions had worked. Some hadn’t. Some of the ideas turned out were just not a good fit for my business. Some of the failures were due to me. I’m not a natural Zoomer so trying to connect with clients via a screen is tricky for me. I’m still not sure why. I can happily go live on Instagram or record videos and presentations. But there’s just something about Zoom that I find hard to get my head around.

Anyway, it was all going pretty well. I was making what I needed to get by each month. I live a simple life, my biggest expenses being the care of my animals (two dogs and a cat since you asked). Then the notification arrived. The online school platform was changing its pricing tiers. Not only the pricing but the amount of products included in each tier. Looking at my school this would result in my annual fee tripling. There was absolutely no way that I could absorb that or pass on such a huge uplift (see, I can do business speak). And so started an extremely stressful few weeks. Did I forget to mention that the new banding would be applied in 2 weeks? All hands to the pump, I dove into the world of LMS’s (Learning Management Systems as if you didn’t know). I’d have to build a whole new school on my own website. And figure out how to transfer my students over. After much Googling and YouTube watching, Word Press Updating and video storage wrangling I called for help. But even with a fabulous IT expert on board I realised that it was impossible. There was no way I could do it in two weeks. If at all. (I hope at this point you’re remembering that I’m a dog trainer, not a software developer.) I’d lost my job. I’m self employed but I’d lost my job.

Telling the world

In the spirit of transparency I sent out emails to my students explaining the situation and advising them the download resources and complete courses they’d already started. I also gave a 50% discount on any courses they’d ben wanting to take but hadn’t got around to yet. I pressed send and waited. I was dreading the response. The requests for refunds and the capital letter strewn emails as folks hit me with their complaints and disappointment. But come they did not.

Instead I received emails of support and condolences. Offers of help and advice. And of thanks for making them aware of the situation and for making sure that everyone had what they needed. I was astounded. But I shouldn’t have underestimated the students who came to learn about supportive scentwork, taught in a rewarding and accommodating way. These were, are, my people. People who care about their dogs and their clients. Who appreciated my honesty and recognised the trauma this enforced changed was causing. Thoughtful, caring, concerned. I could have wept. I did weep.

You might be wondering why I didn’t reach out to my current learning platform. The truth is that I did. Immediately I received their update notification I hit the keyboard. I was told that I could drop a tier if I reduced the number of products. This wasn’t good enough. I’d built the range by following their advice and increasing the number of low priced resources in order to introduce prospective students to my school. Eventually I got a proper reply where they apologised for the distress they’d caused and offered a workable solution for the next year. This would give me time to re-jig what I offer on the school and what would be available from my main website.

Now I had to send another email to my dedicated scentworkers, letting them know that the school was staying. Again, I awaited their response with anxiety. But this time even more replied with messages of such support and delight that I almost felt this whole debacle had been worth it.

We’re real!

We were all reminded that behind the keyboards are real people. Real people who cared about each other. Not in a saccharine social media way. Rather in an authentic and honest way. Nobody had to contact me, they could have just cancelled and moved on. The fact that they did, and more than that, they let me know that what I was putting out there was valuable to them, useful and needed and enjoyed. For an online trainer, that means the world to me. That real people with real dogs know that they are working with a real person with a real life (and real dogs too).

Business was never my forte. But it’s impossible to avoid when you’re self employed. What I’ve learned from this palaver is that I was wrong to put all my eggs in the learning platform’s basket. I’ve reinstated the shop on my website. And I’m looking for other avenues, such as the very one you’re reading this on, as a way to make more connections and continue to earn a modest living. It gave me a fright. But it also reminded me that worth is not about money, it’s about values - trust, authenticity, care and support.

I hope you will join me as I share more about the realities of dog training, self employment, business and life. My plan is to share my writing here with the aim of eventually making a little money from it. (I understand it’s the norm to declare this at an early stage, hence me mentioning it.) So please like and follow, or whatever the Substack equivalent is. Subscribe? And let me know what you think. Have you been where I am? How did it affect you? Are my musings interesting to you? Do they resonate? Is there something specific you’d like me to cover? I look forward to having you here with me. It could be fun (eek, I’ve repeated the ‘f’ word again!)