Many dog owners struggle with leaving their pets home alone, worrying about boredom, anxiety, and bad behavior. Over the years, I’ve learned how to keep my high-energy Labrador, Beau, happy and engaged—even during busy times. From overcoming his initial destructive habits to developing a deep understanding through training and communication, our journey together has shaped both of us.
The Early Days: A Rough Start
Dogs are social animals and need companionship to stay happy and stimulated. Beau, the mascot of SAK, is almost 10 years old now. When my family and I adopted him at 1 and a half years old, he was full of energy but had never been exposed to structure.
He took every opportunity to misbehave when we weren’t home. His first owner surrendered him to the local shelter because he was unable to control his destructive behavior. (See below, although that toy was given to him as a sacrifice.)
For the first three months, before Beau and I got used to each other, we didn’t get along. Our daily walks were a nightmare; he pulled toward everything that caught his interest. For a 55 kg dog, he was able to drag each of the family members down the street with ease.
A neighbor at the time would watch me and ask: “Who’s walking who?”—in a joking manner. Beau often got into other forms of mischievous behavior: dominating other dogs at the park, jumping up on people, and rifling through the garbage.
I’m sad to recall that at some point, I even considered giving him away—maybe to a farmer who needed a herding dog. (Labradors are not very good herding dogs.) At the time, that seemed like the best option since I knew that high-energy dogs struggle with city life.
Learning to Communicate
Despite the daily struggle, my friends and community of dog owners taught me how to love and care for him, but also how to set the rules. After months of getting used to one another, I realized the real solution wasn’t changing Beau—it was changing how I interacted with him.
I took advice from experienced dog owners in my circle, learning to communicate with him through physical cues and commands like “leave it” and “come.” I also introduced lead manners, using a combination of snapping his lead to signal when he wasn’t allowed to approach something. It felt like horseback riding, guiding him in a certain direction. Eventually, we developed an unspoken language—one snap meant “don’t go there,” two meant “sit,” and so on. If he ignored my pull or snap, I would come to a full stop until I had his attention again. This kept us from constantly pulling each other. It took years to perfect, and we still have moments where re-training is needed.
I learned to develop a strong will for the good of both of us, so that he wouldn’t endanger himself or others. With time, he learned to follow my lead, and our bond grew stronger. How many people in your life truly understand the language of dogs?
A New Country, A New Challenge
In 2023, I moved with Beau from Canada to Kosova, my home country.
Prishtina, with its many stray dogs, made walks even harder. Packs of strays followed us, drawing unwanted attention. I never knew if we were going to attract a friendly or aggressive dog.
On top of that, Beau’s size got us stopped by police numerous times, warning of a €500 fine for not using a muzzle—despite him being the gentlest dog and spending years working on his training. I also knew him to be extraordinarily gentle and patient with kids.
I knew that at his age, my dog wouldn’t get used to wearing a muzzle, and it would distract him during the walk, making him act erratically and shake his head.
This was a disappointment to learn that a dog under their owners control would be punished, even after spending years training and socializing him.
Including Beau in Daily Life
Over the past eight and a half years that we’ve had him, Beau has made countless dog and human friends while traveling the world. Not everyone can bring their dog along for everything, but including your dog in daily activities makes a difference in both your lives. Even small things—like taking them on car rides or to a café patio—help them feel included and engaged.
It’s not easy to do so, as a simple outing can be ruined either by getting stopped by police, having hordes of dogs follow you, or an unexpected comment from passersby. But it’s better than watching their family leave for hours, wondering when you’ll be back.
The Transformation
Having had Beau for almost a decade, I see how transformative those years were. I was 19 when I got him, and the responsibility was mainly on me to keep him in line. I also had to accept that from the day I got him, no matter where I was going in life, he was coming with me. Sometimes that meant changing plans with friends as to not leave Beau at home for too long. It meant that most of my days were broken up to suit Beau’s schedule. It meant not going on a trip if I didn’t have the right type of sitter for him, who would understand his hardheadedness.
In exchange, I got a dog that made me feel protected, stood by me when I was bedridden for weeks, helped me come out of my shell to make friends who were also dog lovers, and helped me become selfless at a young age.
I didn’t only learn how to be a more structured person for my dog—I also learned to rely on the help of others to guide my new life with him. These moments were life-changing, and I hope we become a community of people who encourage each other to become the best dog owners we can be.
I have a lot of hope that many first-time dog owners will use the resources around them to build a fulfilling life with their pets. And I hope, in the next decade, we continue to shift our perspective on animals in Kosova—seeing them not as burdens, but as lifelong companions worthy of care and respect.
Beau and his many friends
