Though each trainer believes his or her method is best, I don't

Hear the gentle yet profound words of Donald McCaig: “Though each trainer believes his or her method is best, I don’t think it matters which method the pet owner adopts so long as that owner finds a capable mentor and sticks with the training. Eventually you will learn to see your dog, and when that happens, the richness of your and your dog’s lives will tell you what to do next.” This is no idle counsel; it is a lesson carved from the ancient bond between man and beast, from the long story of partnership that has bound humans to dogs across millennia. McCaig’s wisdom is not about instruction alone—it is about patience, relationship, and vision.

He begins by acknowledging the pride of the trainer, for each one clings to their method as supreme. But here he declares a deeper truth: the method itself is less important than the constancy and sincerity with which it is practiced. The mentor serves as guide, but the real transformation is born of commitment. For what matters is not the variety of techniques but the building of trust between the owner and the animal. Without such trust, all methods collapse; with it, even imperfect paths can lead to harmony.

Most powerful of all is his declaration: “Eventually you will learn to see your dog.” This is no shallow seeing, no mere glance at fur and form, but the deep vision of understanding—the recognition of a living soul bound to yours. To see in this sense is to perceive the animal not as an object to be commanded, but as a partner, a companion, a being with needs, fears, joys, and devotion. It is only when the owner attains this vision that the way forward becomes clear, not from the dictates of manuals, but from the living bond itself.

History gives us many examples of this truth. Consider Alexander the Great and his war-horse Bucephalus. When no man could tame the beast, the boy Alexander approached not with force but with perception. He saw that the horse was afraid of its own shadow, and so he turned it toward the sun. From that moment on, horse and master became inseparable, their bond legendary. This was not the triumph of a method, but of seeing—of understanding the creature before him. McCaig’s words echo this same eternal principle.

So too with the shepherds of old, whose flocks were guarded by loyal dogs through cold nights and lonely hills. These shepherds did not learn from books, nor did they debate methods; they learned by living alongside their dogs, by watching, by listening, by sharing in labor and rest. Over time, they came to see their animals, and in that seeing, they knew how to act. Their wisdom was practical, born not of rigid rules but of relationship.

The lesson for us is clear: in all our bonds—whether with animals, with friends, or even with our own children—the method is not the heart of the matter. What matters is the constancy of love, the humility to learn from a mentor, and the patience to keep faith with the relationship until vision opens. When you learn to see, whether it is your dog or your fellow man, the path forward reveals itself without coercion, without struggle. The bond itself becomes the teacher.

Practically, this means: do not be obsessed with choosing the “perfect” method. Instead, find guidance, commit to the practice, and walk the path with patience. Spend time with your dog, not as a commander but as a companion. Watch, listen, learn. In time, you will know instinctively how to act, because your bond will speak more clearly than any manual. And beyond dogs, this applies to all relationships: strive less to master, more to understand.

Therefore, O seekers of wisdom, remember McCaig’s counsel. To truly see your dog is to open your eyes to life itself—to understand that love and perception are greater than technique, that patience is greater than power, and that the richest lives are lived not by control but by communion. When you attain this vision, the way forward will no longer be a question, for the bond between you and the one you love will tell you all you need to know.