This past weekend, Tito Puente and I visited both the Rose City Working Dog Club in Canby, Oregon, and the Olympic Working Dog Club in Rochester, Washington.
We’ve been participating in Schutzhund, in varying degrees, for about 2.5 years now. This trip marked our first full immersion in what people often call the “Schutzhund lifestyle.” And lifestyle is exactly the right word.
Schutzhund is all-consuming. Putting a title on a dog requires a fundamental shift in how you think about time, priorities, and daily rhythm. Social occasions become less frequent as full days of training events fill the calendar. Gear needs to be purchased—specialized collars, leashes, tug toys, foul-weather clothing, training vests, treats, treat bags, and more. It’s a long list, and the costs add up quickly.
Then there’s the vehicle.
You need something reliable enough to haul the handler, the dog (in a crate), and a small mountain of equipment. Minivans are a popular choice in this crowd. In my case, it’s a high-mileage FedEx Chevrolet Express AWD cargo van with a rebuilt engine and transmission.
Her name is Big Bertha, pictured here after an exciting adventure in a muddy field.
Our hoped-for Friday afternoon departure came and went, and we opted to leave early Saturday morning instead. Meal prep for Tito—raw food mixed with supplements and vegetables—takes time. We both have food sensitivities, so packing our own food on the road is essential.
Supporting Tito’s health and recovery is something I take seriously, both as a handler and as the owner of Vibrant Dog. With upcoming changes to federal hemp regulations, we expect that our 4000 mg Vibrant Dog tincture will need to be discontinued later this year. While that’s disappointing for many dogs who benefit from higher-strength products, we’re actively working to adapt responsibly and transparently. I’ll be sharing more details on that soon.
Saturday morning arrived. Big Bertha was shiny and clean, coolers were packed, dog-and-human gear for every possible scenario was stowed away, and we finally hit the road.
The 90-minute drive from Eugene to Canby went smoothly. The weather was clear and relatively warm for a January day. We arrived to find about 20 handlers socializing, training, and rotating through field work.
One thing that becomes clear quickly in Schutzhund is that training is a team effort. It’s very different from the group obedience classes many pet owners are familiar with. Each club has its own culture and etiquette, and learning that rhythm is part of the process.
Rose City Working Dog Club is run by Denis and Adrian Krigbaum, both of whom have competed and titled at world-level Schutzhund events. Beyond their credentials, they’re friendly, approachable, and excellent communicators.
The morning begins with obedience, which requires a spotter. The spotter watches you and your dog closely, calling out fine details in real time and offering suggestions for correction. These details matter.
A dog that’s slow to sit? Lose a point.
A down that’s slightly crooked? Lose a point.
Feet grazing the top of the hurdle? Lose a point.
Obedience runs from 10 a.m. to noon, followed by protection work.
Denis serves as the helper—the person wearing protective gear who plays the role of the “bad guy.” He hides in one of six pyramid-shaped blinds while the handler directs the dog to search, locate, and engage.
Good helpers are among the most skilled trainers in the dog world. They must read behavior instantly and adjust their work to shape the dog appropriately. That means taking the full force of powerful, bite-driven dogs—and knowing how to carefully build confidence in dogs that are less naturally intense.
Confidence building must be done thoughtfully. Poor helper work can psychologically damage a dog and permanently erode confidence.
Tito Puente is extremely social and not the stereotypical “death machine” often associated with working-line dogs bred specifically for protection or police work. He was raised to be friendly and treats Schutzhund like a game—and he’s very good at that game.
One of the best parts of this sport is that Tito gets to live his best Rottweiler life: barking, chasing, biting—in a controlled environment that’s safe for both humans and dogs. As the owner of a powerful breed, I get to live my best dog-owner life as well.
Obedience with Adrian went well. There are still pieces of the puzzle to put in place before our March 20th trial, but overall, we’re on the right track.
Protection was a bit rougher. After a month off for the holidays, Tito came onto the field fired up and intense, paying more attention to the helper than to me.
And who could blame him? The bite sleeve sits at the top of the reward hierarchy. The goal is teaching him that the only way to earn it is by giving me his full attention.
The good news is that protection has always been Tito’s strength, and nothing we saw can’t be addressed before trial day.
The day wrapped up with Cuban food at Cubo Cubo, salsa dancing at Logic, and a restful night at a Washington rest stop.
That is a typical training day at a Schutzhund club. It’s an all-day commitment—a throwback to a slower era, before our schedules were dictated by smartphones and constant notifications.
And here’s the part that matters even if you’ll never step onto a protection field: at its core, Schutzhund is about clarity, structure, communication, and meeting a dog’s needs honestly.
Those principles apply to every dog—whether they’re a titled working dog or a beloved family companion who just wants to feel safe, understood, and fulfilled.
When we give dogs appropriate outlets for their instincts, clear expectations, and consistent care, we don’t just get better performance. We get better relationships.
And that’s something every dog owner can appreciate.
With gratitude,
Joshua Whitley
Owner, Vibrant Dog
