Silly Shepherds · About a 7-minute read
Day eight. Morning walk.
And there she is.
The one-year-old black Labrador. The same dog who, on day one, was on the receiving end of a reaction unlike anything I had experienced before.
The dog who had cold sweat running down my back.
The dog who made me think: what have I gotten myself into?
Odin looked. Sniffed the air. Looked again.
And kept walking.
No growling. No pulling. No explosion.
Just walked on.
That moment summed up our first week with Odin.
🐾 How It Started — Day One
Saturday, August 1.
We left at 7:45 a.m., heading for the northern Netherlands. Electric car. A two-hour-and-twenty-minute drive. A short stop along the way so we would not arrive too early.
Waiting for us were a mother and daughter desperately looking for a solution for their dog.
A black male German Shepherd, almost two years old.
A rope for a leash. No basic commands.
But something in his eyes caught my attention.
He seemed calm in that moment, and I felt there was a dog worth getting to know beneath everything he had missed.
That was an impression, not a reliable way to assess aggression or predict how he would react elsewhere.
We took him home.
Not a sound the whole way back. He looked around quietly and slept now and then.
As though he trusted where we were going.
At home, he explored the dog field, met Zara, found a place to settle, and discovered the little pool.
The first day seemed to be going well.
Then came the evening walk.
We had barely gone a quarter of a mile into the park when we met a man with a black Labrador.
A sweet dog. Zara usually loves playing with her.
Odin had other plans.
What followed was unlike anything I had dealt with before.
The force on the leash made it feel as though he wanted to get straight through to the other dog. If I had still been holding that thin rope leash, my fingers would have paid for it.
Cold sweat.
I nearly fell.
Back home, I felt completely out of my depth for a moment.
An almost two-year-old dog who seemed to have missed so many of the basics.
That hit hard.
That evening, I started reading. I came across the “3-3-3 rule,” a rough way people describe a rescue dog’s adjustment period.
It gave me something to think about, though no dog follows a fixed timetable.
Odin slept on the floor beside me all night.
Every so often, a lick.
And I thought: we can build something here.
That evening, I gave him a new name too.
He deserved a fresh start.
And a dog with the presence of a god deserved a name to match.
From that moment on, he was Odin.
Day one. His first meeting with Zara. Cautious. Curious. And already giving us something to hope for.
🐾 What We Learned This Week
Day Two — My New Shadow
Odin still squats to pee.
Sometimes straight onto his own front legs.
Male dogs can squat too. In his case, the aim could use some work.
He eats his new kibble. Follows me around all day. When I go to the bathroom, he waits outside the door.
He is already seeking me out.
Day Three — Trying to Regain Control
I used a choke chain.
It was not my first choice. At the time, I felt stuck: once he saw another dog, I could not get through to him with treats, a ball, or my voice.
I used a brief leash correction and noticed that his behavior changed in the moment.
That records what I did and observed. It does not establish that the method was necessary, safe, or that it addressed what he was feeling.
My goal was for him not to need it.
Day Four — A Small Sit, a Big Moment
At the gate to the dog field, I asked him to sit.
On the third try, he did.
A small moment. A big deal to me.
Later, in the woods, I let him off leash for the first time.
He stayed with us.
It felt like trust was beginning to grow.
Day six would remind me how much I still had to learn.
Day Five — A Calmer Introduction
A new dog approached through the gate at the dog field.
No explosion. No barking.
Just sniffing, then moving on.
Later, with another male dog loose in the field, Odin barked a little. When I said “Enough,” he stopped.
No fight.
No drama.
It felt like progress.
Day Six — I Moved Too Fast
A step backward.
In the woods, I let him off leash too soon.
A girl with a dog appeared in the distance.
Odin ran after them.
Out of sight.
I could hear growling and barking.
Eventually, he came back.
That was the only positive part.
I apologized to the girl.
The lesson was mine: a few good moments did not mean he was ready for that freedom.
Trust takes time. So does a reliable recall.
Day Seven — A Good Day
Two new dogs at the field.
Both greetings went well.
He also did well with Charlie, a male dog who is usually confident around other dogs.
A good day.
One we were happy to have.
Day Eight — The Labrador Again
The Labrador from day one.
Odin looked.
And walked past calmly.
That same day, we tried a few little jumps over low posts. He seemed to love it.
Sitting was also becoming a regular part of our walks.
Small things.
But a week earlier, they had felt a long way off.
🐾 Week One — Where We Stand
From day one to day eight.
From a rope leash to a proper, wide leash.
From cold sweat on that first walk to calmly passing the same Labrador.
One week.
One step at a time.
And already some real progress.
There was a serious setback too. Day six belongs in this story just as much as day eight does.
Odin is still settling in. We are still learning about him.
One calm encounter does not mean every future encounter will go the same way.
But it gives us something to build on.
Odin is worth it.
Every day.
Follow Odin’s diary on the website, and find more from our life with the dogs on YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram.
🐕 Our Dog. Our Experience.
This is our honest diary of a dog getting a second chance and an owner learning along the way. It records the breakthroughs, the mistakes, and the choices we made. It is a personal account, not a training guide.
Week by week. Step by step.
