There are no fences out here. Just miles of open land, a wide Green Bay sky, and whatever nature throws our way—deer, birds, wind, and the kind of stillness that makes you feel small in the best way. And in the middle of it all, there I was—walking with twelve dogs, completely off leash, every single day.
That summer changed me.
I didn’t go into it with a grand plan. I just wanted to give the dogs what they needed: freedom, movement, the chance to be dogs. But somewhere between the daily hikes, the dust trails, and the unexpected squirrel chases, I started to see what they were giving me in return.
No leashes meant no control. No fences meant no backup plan. Out there, the only thing keeping those dogs near me was their choice.
That’s what made it so powerful.
We talk a lot in the dog world about obedience. About commands and compliance. But what happens when you take all of that away—when a dog could run in any direction, chase any distraction, and they still choose to stay by your side?
That’s not obedience. That’s trust.
That’s relationship.
Influence Beats Control
In the early days of walking the pack, I still caught myself relying on old habits—my voice tightening when I sensed excitement building, my posture shifting when a bird flew overhead. But I quickly learned that if I brought tension, the pack followed. If I stayed grounded, they stayed close.
The most important tool I had out there wasn’t a leash or a command—it was my presence.
Dogs aren’t looking for control. They’re looking for clarity. And when they trust your direction, when they feel that calm steadiness from you, they’ll follow you anywhere. Not because you forced them to—but because you earned it.
I had to become the kind of leader that twelve dogs wanted to follow when nothing was stopping them from running. That kind of leadership is quiet. Intentional. Earned moment by moment.
Freedom Is the Measure of Relationship
I’ll never forget one moment: a young dog locked eyes with a bounding deer, body tensed, ready to launch. I didn’t say a word. I just breathed, softened, and called her name gently. She looked back at me—and stayed.
That was everything.
People ask me what makes a great dog. I think it’s this: the choices they make when no one’s watching. When nothing is holding them back. When freedom is real.
A leash can stop behavior. A relationship changes it.
The Pack Was My Mirror
Every day, the dogs showed me where I was clear—and where I wasn’t. They gave me feedback constantly, not through words, but through movement, energy, distance, and attention.
Some days I led with patience and clarity. The pack stayed tight, responsive, and peaceful. Other days I brought in distraction or scattered energy—and they drifted. It was never personal. It was just real.
There’s a humility that comes from leading a group of animals who respond only to who you actually are, not who you pretend to be.
They made me better.
What I Take With Me
That summer taught me more than any course or certification ever could. I became more than a trainer—I became a student of relationship, energy, and trust. I started to see dogs not as problems to solve or behaviors to fix, but as partners in a conversation that never stops.
These days, TOLO isn’t about creating “perfect” dogs. It’s about helping people step into the kind of leadership that invites their dog to choose connection—even when they don’t have to. It’s about raising dogs with intention from the beginning, so that off-leash freedom isn’t a dream—it’s just the natural result of the relationship you’ve built.
I’ll always be grateful for those 80 acres and the twelve dogs who walked them with me. They didn’t just run wild—they ran free. And they helped me do the same.