In dog training, I have made plenty of mistakes—some of them still haunt me to this day. The upside is that those mistakes taught me valuable lessons, and I can confidently say I will never make them again.
When my son was first born, I owned a Belgian Malinois named Odin. I had raised him from a puppy myself. He was an incredible dog—tough, fearless, and driven by an endless desire to work. I loved him immensely.
Odin was a strong-minded dog with a high genetic capacity for aggression, so I made a conscious effort to socialise him heavily from a young age. He was exceptionally social with people, other dogs, and even other animals. He was fantastic around children of all ages and participated in numerous public demonstrations. Over his lifetime, he encountered thousands upon thousands of people without a single issue.
Naturally, when my son was born, I wanted my dog to be around him. However, without realising it, I began making some serious mistakes.
Whenever Odin showed interest in my son, I would push him away, tell him off, or put him outside. He simply wanted to investigate and sniff the new addition to the family, but my protective instincts took over. I became overly cautious and often quite harsh with him whenever he showed curiosity towards the baby.
When my son was about six months old, something happened that I will never forget.
I was in the backyard with Odin when my son’s mother opened the back door and asked if she could bring our son outside.
“Sure,” I replied. “Just let me grab Odin.”
She came outside and sat down with our son on her lap. I sat opposite them with Odin beside me. I had one hand firmly under his collar, and they were only a couple of feet away.
Suddenly, Odin made a sound I had never heard before.
His body became stiff and rigid. Every muscle in him seemed to tense.
I remember thinking, “What on earth is going on?”
Without warning, he lunged towards my son’s arm, missing him by mere millimetres.
I immediately pulled him back and corrected him. Both of us instantly agreed that this was not a situation we wanted to continue. My son’s mother took him back inside, and I was left standing there trying to process what had just happened.
There is no doubt in my mind that Odin intended to hurt my son that day, and perhaps even worse.
It was one of the most confronting moments of my life because I suddenly realised what I had done.
The painful truth was that I knew better.
My overwhelming desire to protect my son had clouded my judgment. I had become so emotionally invested in keeping the baby safe that I stopped thinking rationally about what I was teaching my dog.
By repeatedly pushing Odin away from the baby, excluding him, and punishing him for showing interest, I had unintentionally created a negative association. I had created a behaviour in my dog that I had never seen before—and never saw again afterwards.
I both hate and appreciate this story.
I hate it because of what could have happened.
I appreciate it because it taught me one of the most important lessons of my career: behaviour is heavily influenced by the environment we create and how dogs are treated within it.
Of course, there are always other factors to consider, including genetics, prior learning, training, and socialisation. However, our actions and interactions with our dogs matter enormously.
The lesson is simple: prevention is always better than cure.
When introducing dogs and children, start with a dog that has a suitable temperament, combine that with good training and proper socialisation, and take your time.
Don’t expect miracles overnight.
Start with short, positive sessions and gradually build on them. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is genuine learning or behavioural conditioning.
With patience, consistency, and a well-thought-out approach, most dogs can learn to enjoy and value the presence of children.
One rule I have never broken and never will:
I do not leave children alone with dogs.
Children often struggle to manage their own behaviour and impulses. Expecting them to always make good decisions around dogs is unrealistic. Supervision is not optional—it is essential.
No matter how trustworthy a dog may seem, safety should always come first.
In dog training, I have made plenty of mistakes—some of them still haunt me to this day. The upside is that those mistakes taught me valuable lessons, and I can confidently say I will never make them again.
When my son was first born, I owned a Belgian Malinois named Odin. I had raised him from a puppy myself. He was an incredible dog—tough, fearless, and driven by an endless desire to work. I loved him immensely.
Odin was a strong-minded dog with a high genetic capacity for aggression, so I made a conscious effort to socialise him heavily from a young age. He was exceptionally social with people, other dogs, and even other animals. He was fantastic around children of all ages and participated in numerous public demonstrations. Over his lifetime, he encountered thousands upon thousands of people without a single issue.
Naturally, when my son was born, I wanted my dog to be around him. However, without realising it, I began making some serious mistakes.
Whenever Odin showed interest in my son, I would push him away, tell him off, or put him outside. He simply wanted to investigate and sniff the new addition to the family, but my protective instincts took over. I became overly cautious and often quite harsh with him whenever he showed curiosity towards the baby.
When my son was about six months old, something happened that I will never forget.
I was in the backyard with Odin when my son’s mother opened the back door and asked if she could bring our son outside.
“Sure,” I replied. “Just let me grab Odin.”
She came outside and sat down with our son on her lap. I sat opposite them with Odin beside me. I had one hand firmly under his collar, and they were only a couple of feet away.
Suddenly, Odin made a sound I had never heard before.
His body became stiff and rigid. Every muscle in him seemed to tense.
I remember thinking, “What on earth is going on?”
Without warning, he lunged towards my son’s arm, missing him by mere millimetres.
I immediately pulled him back and corrected him. Both of us instantly agreed that this was not a situation we wanted to continue. My son’s mother took him back inside, and I was left standing there trying to process what had just happened.
There is no doubt in my mind that Odin intended to hurt my son that day, and perhaps even worse.
It was one of the most confronting moments of my life because I suddenly realised what I had done.
The painful truth was that I knew better.
My overwhelming desire to protect my son had clouded my judgment. I had become so emotionally invested in keeping the baby safe that I stopped thinking rationally about what I was teaching my dog.
By repeatedly pushing Odin away from the baby, excluding him, and punishing him for showing interest, I had unintentionally created a negative association. I had created a behaviour in my dog that I had never seen before—and never saw again afterwards.
I both hate and appreciate this story.
I hate it because of what could have happened.
I appreciate it because it taught me one of the most important lessons of my career: behaviour is heavily influenced by the environment we create and how dogs are treated within it.
Of course, there are always other factors to consider, including genetics, prior learning, training, and socialisation. However, our actions and interactions with our dogs matter enormously.
The lesson is simple: prevention is always better than cure.
When introducing dogs and children, start with a dog that has a suitable temperament, combine that with good training and proper socialisation, and take your time.
Don’t expect miracles overnight.
Start with short, positive sessions and gradually build on them. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither is genuine learning or behavioural conditioning.
With patience, consistency, and a well-thought-out approach, most dogs can learn to enjoy and value the presence of children.
One rule I have never broken and never will:
I do not leave children alone with dogs.
Children often struggle to manage their own behaviour and impulses. Expecting them to always make good decisions around dogs is unrealistic. Supervision is not optional—it is essential.
No matter how trustworthy a dog may seem, safety should always come first.
If you would like some help or advice with your dog arounds, feel free to contact him Contact Us – Sidney Aarons
Check out Sidney’s YouTube channel (5018) Sidney Aarons Professional Dog Trainer – YouTube
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