Fetchin' profession

Dog school business "recession proof" People don't like it when Agnieszka Boczula tells them they're doing something wrong. Men in particular, she says. But pointing out a person's mistakes is part of a successful Warsaw dog trainer's job. "It's this funny situation," explained Boczula, "that people come here to train their dog but from my point of view, it's the other way around; it's more like ‘owners' training.'" And Boczula is not beyond saying do widzenia to some of the more recalcitrant owners from her Aki dog training school. "I have very high self-esteem and I know that my knowledge about dog training is very good but sometimes the customers don't always agree with me, especially men," she said. "They don't want to listen. They don't want to follow my instructions." Fifteen years ago, Boczula started Aki dog training school. Named after Aki, her first working-line German shepherd (a special type of German shepherd bred for work rather than beauty) that she trained to competition level, the business has always been a one-woman show. She estimates she has around 20 competitors in Warsaw, charging zł. 40-zł. 100 per one hour lesson. Boczula, who trains dogs in Polish and English, is at the cheaper end of the scale and on average she has five to six lessons per day during summer, and around three to four in winter. "It's recession proof, but not weatherproof," she said. "If it's about my knowledge of dogs, the business has gone very well, but if it's about money, it's not that great. But I love this job." First day of school On a recent brisk winter's day, in the stark beauty of Pola Mokotowskie, Boczula is putting Viva, a shaggy Bergamasco sheepdog, and Viva's owner, a cheery-faced chap with equally shaggy hair, through their paces. Dressed in her doggy outfit - a bright orange jacket covered in muddy smudges from jumping fidos, a red beanie and sensible winter boots - Boczula comes across as a no-nonsense person. And Boczula's bossy approach to pooch control gets results. This is dog training 101 and in Viva's first lesson, she's learning how to come when called. A sharp call and an even sharper tug on Viva's long lead, and the dog is quickly sitting at her master's feet. Her reward is a little doggy snack. There are a few sharp calls for the owner too, when, in his exuberance, he feeds Viva her reward before she's sitting down. Even a passing Chinese Shar-Pei and his owner, don't go without comment. "Shar-Peis have big problems with their skin - it's awful, awful," she said of the dog, which has been bred to look like it's wearing a fur coat four sizes too big. Asked if she could come back as a dog, what sort of dog she would be, Boczula gives some thought and then replies, "first I would want to be something dominating ... like a good German shepherd." Boczula is a big fan of German shepherds. She has two working-line German shepherds of her own; a mother-and-son team named Zofia and Jaspis. She refers to Jaspis as a "super dog" that used to compete in a sport called Schutzhund, which has three disciplines: scent work, obedience and defense - where the dog defends its owner from an attacking stunt man in a padded suit. Jaspis, said Boczula, has such a strong killer instinct that she had to stop competing - that and the lack of willing "helpers" who were prepared to don the padded gear and face Jaspis. According to Boczula, the Warsaw dog-training industry isn't without its unethical players. There are unscrupulous trainers who have little experience or knowledge and others who regularly tear down competitors' advertising posters. Boczula doesn't advertise Aki, relying instead on word-of-mouth from satisfied customers. Her approach to canine coaching is similar to that endorsed by the late English dog disciplinarian Barbara Woodhouse. Woodhouse, who was as famous for her claim of being able to train a dog in six minutes as for her brusque manner with the dogs' owners, wasn't afraid to use some heavy-handed discipline with her four-legged friends in the form of a choke chain around their throat. It opened a schism between two schools of dog training: those like Boczula who use the dual swords of pain and affection, and the so-called "clickers," who use only love and a little device that makes a clicking sound to elicit doggy obedience. "Most often the owners love their dog so much and don't want anything to happen to him or hurt him and the main target of this style of training is actually to show the dog that we can hurt them; then it listens to us," Boczula said. She's lost count of the number of clients who come to her asking them to train their pet as a guard dog. "But all those requests are rejected immediately," she said. "I do it out of principle because I do not like these people who want guard dogs. I like this kind of dog; but not the people. "These people don't know what the problems are with a dog like this, and how they should care for it and protect the rest of society from it … If you have a dog like this, you can't have anyone in the house with it or go for a walk in the park." Meanwhile, Viva's edification is continuing in Pola Mokotowskie. This happy dog is more in danger of licking someone to death. Boczula and her client set up a time for lesson No. 2. The owner is happy with the progress Viva has already made. "That's because Viva is smart," said Boczula proudly.