Maybe Today’s the Day It Clicks

Maybe you’ve wondered if you’ve missed something.

You’ve been working at this for weeks—treats in your pocket, leash in hand—and still, the second something exciting happens, it feels like you disappear. Birds, dogs, even leaves tumbling down the sidewalk seem to hold more weight than your voice.

You try to stay patient, but the thought sneaks in—what if my dog just isn’t the kind to stay focused?

But then you remember the little moments.

Like yesterday, when your dog glanced at you just before pulling toward a squirrel. It lasted barely a second, but something about it felt different. There was hesitation—small, but there.

You marked it, rewarded it, even though it was over almost as quickly as it started.

Maybe that counts.

You’ve probably heard that training isn’t always obvious—that dogs don’t learn in straight lines. But in the middle of the park, when your dog is pulling toward another distraction, it’s hard not to question things.

Still, there’s this feeling that the work is adding up, even if you can’t see it yet.

Maybe those tiny moments are starting to layer.

Even if focus doesn’t last long, each time your dog almost chooses you feels like progress. You can mark that. You can reward that. It doesn’t have to be perfect.

So today, maybe you’ll ask for just one second of attention. If you get it, you’ll celebrate. If not, you’ll try again tomorrow.

Because now, you’re starting to see—those seconds aren’t small. They’re the start of something bigger.

And if you keep showing up, keep rewarding those flickers, they’ll grow into something solid.

Maybe today is the day it all starts to click.