Remote vs On-Site: Does It Matter Where I Train?

When people first enquire about working with me, one of the most common questions I get is: "Do you come to us?" or "How can it work remotely?". Both formats work. Both have their place. But they work for very different reasons, and understanding why has completely changed how I approach helping dogs and their owners.

The truth about on-site sessions

When I visit you at home, or we meet somewhere out in the world, there's an obvious appeal to it. You can watch me work with your dog in real time. You see the timing, the body language, the handling. It feels immediate and tangible. And it is — to a point.

But here's something I've learned over years of doing this: my presence changes everything. The moment I walk through your front door, your dog is dealing with something completely different from what they deal with in everyday life. There's a stranger in the house. There's a new scent, new energy, new context. I'm a distraction — and that's not necessarily a bad thing, but it does mean that what I'm seeing isn't always what you see on a Tuesday morning when I'm nowhere near.

A dog who behaves perfectly while I'm standing there hasn't learned anything permanent — they've just adapted to a new situation.

This is one of the most misunderstood things in dog training. Real learning — durable, generalised behaviour change — happens when the dog and owner work together in their actual environment, with their actual routine, without an audience. My job isn't to be the one the dog responds to. My job is to teach you how to communicate with your dog. 

Why short sessions are non-negotiable

Whether we're working together in person or remotely, I'm strict about one thing: training sessions should be short. Five to ten minutes, maximum. That's it. Dogs don't have the kind of sustained focus that humans sometimes imagine — especially not when they're learning something new. Their capacity for productive engagement drops off a cliff after ten minutes, and pushing beyond that doesn't just waste time; it actively undermines the learning.

What I often find is that people come to me having spent half an hour trying to "practice" something, and they're frustrated that nothing is clicking. Almost always, the answer isn't more time — it's better, shorter, more frequent repetitions spread across the day. Three five-minute sessions beats one thirty-minute marathon every single time.

This applies just as much to on-site visits. When I'm with you in person, I'm not there to run a marathon session. I'm there to demonstrate, explain, observe — and then hand it back to you.

Remote work: why video changes everything

Remote consultations have completely transformed what I'm able to offer — and honestly, in many cases they're more effective than being there in person. The reason is simple: when an owner films themselves working with their dog and shares the video with me, I'm seeing the reality. Not the version of events where a trainer has walked in and altered the dynamic. Not the dog performing for a stranger. I'm seeing your dog, with you, in your normal life.

There is an enormous amount of information in a short clip. The way you hold the lead. The moment your body stiffens before you even give a cue. The split-second your dog starts to drift before the behaviour breaks down. These are things that are genuinely difficult to catch in real time. But when I can pause, rewind, and watch frame by frame — I catch everything.

And it gives you something too: watching yourself on film is one of the most powerful tools for changing your own handling. Most people are shocked by what they see — the unintentional signals they're sending, the timing gaps they didn't know existed. That moment of self-recognition is often where the real shift begins.

You have to learn too — that's the whole point

I want to be direct about something: if you're working with me expecting me to "fix" your dog, you've misunderstood what training is. I don't fix dogs. I teach people. Your dog is only going to be as consistent as you are — because you're the one who's there every single day, not me.

This is why the remote format suits so many people so well. The process of filming, sending, receiving feedback, and trying again puts you at the centre of the work. You're not watching an expert handle your dog and hoping some of it transfers. You're actively practising, reflecting, adjusting. You're building a skill. And that skill lives with you long after our sessions are done.

In person, it's easy to fall into the trap of watching me and nodding along. Video feedback forces the opposite. You have to do, film, review, and do again. That cycle — action, observation, correction, repetition — is exactly how both dogs and humans learn best.

So which is right for you?

On-site sessions are brilliant for owners who need a hands-on demonstration to understand a concept, or where safety means I need to be physically present to help manage a situation carefully. There are absolutely moments where nothing replaces being in the room.

But remote work suits the majority of what I do — behaviour change that happens gradually, through consistent daily practice, with feedback from someone who can look at your footage with a trained eye and tell you exactly what to do differently tomorrow.

My presence matters less than your commitment. What changes dogs is repetition, clarity, and an owner who shows up — not a trainer who visits once and disappears. Whichever way we work together, that's always going to be true.