Yes, I really mean ALL dogs

What my business name means - and what it doesn’t

People sometimes raise their eyebrows when they hear the name of my business. All Dogs Are Good?  Even the dog who stole a whole chicken from the bench and peed on the doona? Yep. Even that one.

It started as a bit of a running joke. I’d see a dog (any dog) out in public, rave about how good they were, and my partner would shake his head and say, "Yeah but you think all dogs are good.” And he was right. I do.

That doesn't mean I think all dogs are easy. Or a breeze to live with. Or belong in every café.

I just don’t think those are the things that make a dog good.

What does “good” even mean?

When I had my baby, I started noticing something familiar in the way people talked about him. It reminded me of how we often talk about dogs. People would regularly ask if he was a “good baby.” What they usually meant was: Is he easy? Is he sleeping, not crying too much, going with the flow?

And while I appreciated that it was well-intentioned, it was a hard question to answer. He was just being a baby. Some days were smooth, others not so much. But none of that made him a better or worse baby than anyone else’s. We don’t mean to do it, but we often end up measuring both babies and dogs by how convenient they are - how well they fit into our lives.

It's not personal. It’s just behaviour

When your dog barrels after a kangaroo or loses their mind at the front gate, it’s not because they’re plotting your downfall. It’s because they’re overstimulated, underprepared, or responding to a situation the only way they know how. Behaviour is communication and information, not simply character. Yes, we can train to improve things. We should! But if we start from a place of judgement—“bad dog,” “naughty,” “stubborn”—we miss the point. And worse, we miss the chance to help.

It’s not just about the dog

We often want our dogs to behave because it makes us feel like we’ve got it together. I’ve definitely felt that pressure, especially as a professional dog trainer! These days, dogs live in a more restricted world than they were originally designed for. They spend more time indoors, face tighter rules in public spaces, and are often expected to slot neatly into modern human lives - despite instincts and genetics that don’t always match the job. We expect them to be quiet, calm, obedient, and convenient at all times. That’s not just unrealistic. It’s a heavy load to carry, for both dogs and dog guardians already doing their best.

The quiet, polite dog at the market? That dog makes you feel like you know what you’re doing. The barking, leaping, shrieking banshee on the end of your lead? Less so. And the more we feel like we’re being watched, the more we want to fix things fast. But dogs aren’t supposed to be props for our public image. They’re living, learning beings doing their best in a human world that isn’t always easy for them. Despite our efforts and good intentions, things won't always go to plan. And that’s okay.

Good dogs, big needs

Here in regional Victoria, a lot of people live with working breeds—kelpies, cattle dogs, border collies—who aren’t actually working. They’re not herding sheep or rounding up cattle. They’re pets. Family members. And that can create a mismatch.

These dogs were bred for stamina, smarts, and taking charge of their environment. So when they don’t have the right outlets or support, all that intensity doesn’t disappear. It just gets redirected:

• Chasing wildlife

• Dismantling your irrigation system

• Barking at every dog that walks past your house

  
  

It doesn’t mean they’re bad. It doesn’t mean you’re doing it all wrong. It just means they need help adjusting to a world that wasn’t really built for them.

A promise in a name

It’s easy to love the cruisy dog who snoozes on their bed and wags serenely at everyone. But I’ve always had a soft spot for the wild cards. The bolters, the barkers, the ones who are trying their best but are overwhelmed, out of their depth, or just not there yet. They’re not being deliberately difficult. They’re doing their best with what they know. And when you meet them with curiosity instead of control, things start to shift.

That’s what the name All Dogs Are Good really means. It’s not a claim that every dog is, or should be, perfect. It’s a belief that every dog deserves support. No matter their breed, background, age, or temperament. No matter how much of a handful they are right now.

And their people deserve support, too. Because it’s not always easy. Living with a dog who’s struggling can be lonely, confusing, and exhausting. You’re doing your best, and so are they. Training isn’t about fixing a broken dog. It’s about helping them succeed in their own way - without shame, without blame, and without pain or fear.

They’re already good. Let’s start there.