(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I have a new, free video series on RESOLVE: http://www.summitconsulting.com/resolve/ and, as I frequently do, I use my dogs as examples throughout the videos. I talk about how optimistic they are every day, and how they integrate learning.

The responses to the series have been fantastic, but one person wrote to say that he resents being compared to dogs (“If my dogs can do it, you can do it” I say at one point), and feels I should come up with different examples (in my free videos). He never mentions the worth of the content.

I recall once asking an audience of raucus consultants to be quite and sit down (“SIT!” I shouted) so that I could begin my speech. They laughed and did so, except for one guy who said, “I’m a CMC and won’t be talked to like that! You have no right to insult the best people in the profession!” (Well, I’m a GWWPUWIE—guy who won’t put up with inflated egos, so sit down and shut up.)

I’m constantly telling people that I’m surprised at how stupid I was just two weeks ago. You can compare me to a slug if it will help me learn something. I’m nether so insecure nor so arrogant that I need a constant, positive litany of my standing or recognition of the indecipherable 19 initials after my name.

You could be a lot worse off than being compared to a purebred German Shepherd. And if you don’t like dogs, I’ll remind you that it’s a long, long fall off a phony high horse.

© Alan Weiss 2012. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We suspect that Koufax may be getting a bit hard of hearing in his senior years. I say “suspect” because sometimes he seems to hear us perfectly, and other times he may just be ignoring us. From the time he was a puppy, he was always aloof, and sometimes pretends not to hear us. I’ve caught him pretending to be asleep, for example, and when he thinks we’re gone, he opens one eye.

In any case, it’s tough to see him against a background of snow in the winter, and on a freezing night my wife doesn’t want to roam the back of the property trying to find him after his nightly excursion. So she’s purchased a dog whistle, and to my shock, it works. Koufax immediately turns toward the source of the sound, and Buddy Beagle does likewise.

We’ve created a keen appeal to Koufax’s sensory apparatus. He can’t ignore it, doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t hear it. It sparks his curiosity.

That’s exactly what we have to do in our branding and marketing efforts: Create an irresistible appeal that strikes a nerve and stands out from the surrounding noise and stimuli.

We need an appeal that only true buyers can hear, and which causes them to turn in our direction.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We took the dogs to the annual blessing of the animals in the parking lot of the school of Our Lady of Mercy Church nearby. There were about 50 dogs (plus some cats and one gerbil) and a hundred people at the brief and always rewarding ceremony, celebrated by one of the priests.

Koufax, of course, stands out, with most people asking just what the heck he is. (In fact, Buddy was the only Beagle, which made him quite happy.) Kids grab at his fur and adults get close, and he’s quite docile with them. However, he did snap at two other, large dogs, doing his alpha thing. He’s not crazy about canine socializing.

A new book about the most famous Shepherd of all, Rin Tin Tin (the original, silent movie dog), makes the point that if you have to show a Shepherd something more than once, the problem is with you, not the dog. They are bright, great with kids, and will defend you with their lives. But like all of us, they have their own idiosyncrasies, and Koufax prefers not to socialize with strange dogs.

He’s aloof.

I don’t demand he act like a chatty poodle or a gregarious lab. It’s why I don’t attempt to train our dogs to be performing seals. I feel they deserve to lead their own lives, within some rules that enable productive social interaction (use the yard, not the kitchen).

We shouldn’t judge others by our own standards. Some of the most interesting people I know, whose company I enjoy, tend to be very quiet most of the time. Some others snap at people who get in their space. I can allow for it. I can even imagine, though it’s a stretch, that some of my habits aren’t those that others would hold dear.

But I’m pretty flexible, so long as no one tugs on my fur.

© Alan Weis 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Koufax generally takes a good look around. He’ll sit for a moment or simply stand stock still while he rotates his head. It saves him a lot of unnecessary trips (his onboard computer can tell him whether he has a chance of catching the squirrel) and I believe he simply enjoys it. (One dog expert posited that dogs are at their happiest doing absolutely nothing, an observation I’ve seen no reason to dispute.)

I had watered two small evergreens I’ve transplanted from a tangle of growth they don’t belong in to a nice spot overlooking the pond, and I decided just to stop and look around. After a few minutes I saw two fish, which tells me that our restocking was probably a success (that and the presence of Great Blue Herons and Black Crowned Night Herons with regularity). I saw turtles hardly visible on the mud flats, and a snapping turtle nest where the eggs had been dug up. (That happens all the time, yet the snappers clearly successfully perpetuate the species.)

Then, under a row of hastas, I saw a snake. We’ve had snakes here for 25 years, but they’re seen very rarely. We call this guy a “racer” because of his neat racing stripes, but he’s probably a garden snake. He’s about a foot long, which means he’s been around for a while.

Fortunately, Koufax wasn’t around and Buddy Beagle would probably be scared by the forked tongue. I was mesmerized.

That’s what happens when you stop to look around. You see things that you miss when you run through the place. You may be missing opportunity, gratification, clients, financial return, adventure. You need to stop and look.

I believe that’s what the snake was doing, probably now telling his buddies that he saw me.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Buddy Beagle makes it a point to mooch biscuits from any UPS drivers who happen to be carrying them. So I was surprised to see him run past the latest guy down to the truck. (Buddy matches the color scheme quite well, by the way.) He was desperately trying to make the leap up the steps and I corralled him before Koufax got into the act and actually went into the vehicle.

Then I realized that Buddy knows the guy carries dog treats, he delivers boxes to us, and the house always has dog treats. Ergo, this must be the dog treat truck! Why not go after the mother lode?

I like his reasoning and managed to save him from the disappointment of what was inside once he sniffed around. But it’s a good lesson. And there may have been some dog treats in there, who knows?

Why play around with low level people when you know there’s a buyer who can make quick decisions and can be dealt with directly and on a more strategic basis?

Why would you go to someone at your own level for advice when you can access people who are already doing what you aspire to do? (Marshall Goldsmith: “If you want to be a thought leader, hang out with thought leaders.”)

Why would you argue with a hotel desk clerk when there are managers you can access in very a brief time?

Why would you buy a knock-off when, if you work hard and have the courage to treat yourself well, you can have the real thing?

Why do you charge so little, when you can probably charge much more but have never even tried to do so?

Why do you let others control your life when you can just start saying, “No”?

We know that the truck isn’t full of dog biscuits, but it often has some boxes of them, because that is how we order them. All you have to do is get in and start sniffing around.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Every single morning, Buddy Beagle attempts to take a toy through the kitchen door and out into the yard. He is not allowed to do this, since the stuffed animals are ruined in the rain and snow. But he tries every single morning, and there is a veritable zoo of inanimate animals gathered around the kitchen door, where they have been confiscated by my wife and me.

However, once every week or so, he makes it. He pretends to drop the animal but keeps it on the side of his body away from us, or drops an alligator and picks up a frog. Sometimes Koufax will bark and distract us, because there’s a squirrel in his sights. But Buddy does succeed, and his success rate clearly is gratifying and motivates him to continue trying. He has never, ever brought a toy back into the house from the yard. That is not the fun of it.

Buddy apparently is not concerned about his batting average or even improving his game. He’s simply involved in having some fun with us in the morning, and I’ve come to realize that, win or lose, he is simply having a good time. He wasn’t grumpy or upset when we grabbed the animal from him, and didn’t even fight to keep it (and he has tremendous jaw strength). Nor, when he managed to liberate a giraffe or skunk, did he sit there with it in his mouth in the grass, taunting us. He simply played the game for the fun and then moved on to other canine things.

Some things we should just do for the sheer delight, win or lose. We shouldn’t invest our egos, track the results on a spread sheet, or try to Google more advanced applications. We should simply rejoice.

I like to try to grow things, but I have varying degrees of success, from transplanted pine trees thriving at the pond, to vegetables that were devoured by forms of vermin I never even realized existed. I once had a huge electric train layout, and I don’t ever remember operating it for more than 20 minutes without a derailing, crash, or other failure (including one small fire). I love driving exotic cars, but every one I’ve ever owned has had a flaw or fault somewhere.

The point is to enjoy everything you can that needn’t be competitive or judged. There is enough in our lives to place us in competition and evaluation. When we try to extend metrics to all of our lives, we can never “win enough” or “be successful enough.” It’s like playing Angry Birds: There’s always another, tougher level.

Be happy with the sheer joy of life. Sometimes an accomplishment once every week is sufficient. Here I am, successful against Buddy’s habit six days out of seven, and feeling like I’m a failure! I need to get over that….

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I’m writing in my den on Saturday and gaze out the window to find an example, and to my shock see our eagle below me in the back yard on the ground. He’s looking around as if he belongs on a gold piece. Beneath him I see something. When I pick up my binoculars, I can see he’s caught a squirrel. In the next minute he flies off. I’m stunned.

I immediately issue orders (I fancy myself in command of a battleship) that Buddy Beagle is not to be allowed out without Koufax, our German shepherd. This would rarely happen in any rate in pack behavior, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

With that, my daughter, who was visiting for the weekend, picks up a lap top computer and finds that an eagle’s lifting power is only about 3-4 pounds. That’s safely (to be kind) below Buddy’s fighting weight, since he’s a rather substantial beagle, coming in at about 24 pounds.

None of this should have surprised me since, watching Koufax race after a squirrel himself one day, I immediately found out on my computer that his top speed was about 32 MPH for limited durations.

If we can find these things out within a minute with the right access, why can’t consultants find out about their prospects, clients, referrals, competition, and so forth with equal ease and immediacy? I’ll tell you why—because they often don’t bother to identify who those people are. And that’s really not hard, if you just discipline yourself to do it.

In fact, it’s a lot harder trying to lift Buddy Beagle.

© Alan Weiss 2011. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

My German Shepherd, Koufax, routinely picks up a squeaky toy (he has dozens) and drops it next to me on the couch. I throw it, and he does a lap or two of the bedroom and then drops it six feet away. I retrieve it, throw it again, and the process continues. On average, after six tosses, he fetches it, jumps on the bed and lies down. The game is over.

I was always somewhat disappointed that the brilliant Koufax never caught on to how to actually fetch and retrieve. He only brought the toy close to me when the game started.

Then I realized, it was his game, not mine. He had trained me to throw the toy when he first brought it, but then to go to where he dropped it on the returns, and finally that when he “retired” to the bed, we were done. He was playing by his rules, and rather brilliantly. The game is the same every time.

Aside from questions about my IQ, this is a rather good avatar for how to educate clients. Show buyers how YOU play, don’t adapt to how THEY play. Educate them in your payment terms, your interactions, your time efficiencies, joint accountabilities, and so on. And then clearly manifest when that game is over.

We are all creatures of habit, and habits can be broken. I suppose that if I refused to throw the toy unless Koufax brought it closer on each return, he might change his ways. Of course, he might also make me feel guilty about not playing with him.

It all depends on the stronger will, and best persuasive techniques.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We have with us our daughter, her husband, our twin granddaughters, our son, his girlfriend, our two dogs and our son’s bulldog. Full house, even for us.

The dogs immediately formed a pack. Koufax and Humphrey, the bulldog, fight and play, and Buddy Beagle remains wary and crafty, but they all do things together. They’ll hit my den, sleep on the two dog beds together, but if Koufax leaves the other two will follow. This business of a pack—of “having people,” if you will—is pretty cool.

Last evening, Maria and I heard a crack and felt the house shake a bit. We were the only ones home, and the dogs seemed somewhat uneasy. When we went downstairs, we found one of the huge windows (about 12 by 6 feet) that separate the pool table room from the indoor pool had shattered. (Root cause: Unbeknownst to use, the exhaust fan had failed and the build up of heat from the pool on one side and relative coolness on the other strained the window to shattering point.)

At 8 am this morning I called a glazier, who had a man here by 9, who returned at 10:30 with two others and replaced the glass by 11. My son had cleaned up the mess on both sides, and we put the robot in the pool to clean the bottom. I called the electrician at 8:10 and he had a man here by 9, who stood on a 14-foot ladder IN the pool to access the fan, and order a replacement. Meanwhile, the cleaning crew showed up for the holidays, and Cox Cable came to create a “host” recorder with more memory space that can broadcast elsewhere in the house. All of this was completed by 1 pm, when we took our two dogs for their Christmas bath. (It takes two of us to bring them in and bring them out, Koufax is a tad embarrassing.)

It’s good to have “people.” You get “people” by building strong relationships, providing referrals, paying your bills on time, and treating everyone respectfully. I’d like to think the dogs are my “people,” but I’m beginning to realize I’m actually one of theirs.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

When I head toward the master bedroom upstairs, the dogs arrive from wherever they are in the house. I hear their claws tapping out their direction on the wood floors as their speed picks up. Buddy Beagle will run ahead of me, trying to lead to the master bathroom, where the dog treat drawer is, and Koufax will actually engage is some herding maneuvers, which must represent distant racial memory. (If he came face-to-face with an actual sheep today, I’m sure his first move would be to fire up the grill.)

The dogs have mastered a process, just as they have for getting me into the truck to go for coffee and biscuits when I’m not working out. They recognize key signs and act in a prescribed fashion. They are successful more than not. In fact, A Rod would envy their batting averages.

Consultants need to tune in to similar indicators in the environment. For example, there’s the transference that takes place when people critique the boss because they’re really upset with themselves. There’s the turf battles that arise not because of personal animosity but because two senior people are setting the example (“us against them”). There is the projection that ensues when an employee doesn’t want to grant that someone else will be able to do something they haven’t.

Don’t reinvent the wheel. As your consulting career progresses, you should be quicker, more accurate, and more confident. There is actually a finite range of issues that confront an OD consultant (I maintain there are 11, but you know I just love to provoke people) and you should identify what evidence you’re immediately seeing in the environment of which ones.

The faster you help the client, the more valuable you are. A German Shepherd can herd a lot of sheep all my himself. Just don’t drool on the carpets.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

1. Learn to catch food on the fly.
If you don’t, it can fall on the floor and another dog may grab it. Be flexible, agile, and fast. If it doesn’t taste good (or it’s not really food) you can always spit it out.

2. Being petted is insufficient.
Demand that you interact playing ball or get in the car and go for a ride (which you would do yourself, if you could). And don’t expect to be petted just for showing up, nor become addicted to the affection.

3. Play nicely with other dogs.
You can learn from them. They know where neat stuff is hidden. There is more than enough to share. And don’t be a bully, because there is ALWAYS a bigger dog than you around somewhere.

4. Never be finicky.
No one has every called a cat “man’s best friend.” Go with the flow. You may not like riding in the back seat or the hatchback, but it’s far better than not going along at all. The chicken for dinner may not be as good as the lamb, but you didn’t have to out hunting and kill something in order to eat.

5. Protect what’s truly valuable.
No one respects Chicken Little, squawking like a nutcase all the time about the sky falling. But when you defend the family—especially the vulnerable ones—your stock goes way up.

6. Learn to bury well.
You shouldn’t eat everything you can today just because it’s there. This is not about the grasshopper and the ant (you’re a carnivore, not an inset), but it is about indigestion. You may need something tomorrow, so bury it well today and remember how to get back to it.

7. Use your judgment.
Some strangers are clearly dog lovers, and some are clearly not. You can usually tell by their demeanor, and they’ll exhibit confidence or fear. Don’t let anyone who doesn’t deserve to get too close to you.

8. Run through the open gate.
Life is about opportunities and they are often transient. Run out of the yard and look around. Be prudent, come back home, but enjoy the freedom.

9. Maintain your discipline and optimism.
Sometimes, not often, but sometimes the squirrel will fall from the branch. And you can catch even the swiftest squirrels if you stop running in pursuit and instead run between the squirrel and the tree, forcing it to come to you.

10. Maintain your dignity.
The occasional game and trick are fine if they are so important to those you trust, but you’re not an employee or indentured servant. You provide value in return for your upkeep. There is never a need to demean yourself. You are superb at being a dog.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Buddy Beagle was barking (that nutty howl/bark that only Beagles do) at the base of a huge tree in the backyard, staring up into the branches. A few yards away, Koufax was silently staring at a low branch in an adjoining tree, where the squirrel Buddy had originally seen had scampered over for refuge. Apparently, Koufax was hoping for a strong wind, or a misstep, or simply trying to stare the rodent into cardiac arrest.

Buddy was barking up the wrong tree.

I watch a great many consultants bark up the wrong trees:
• They listen to people at professional meetings who either have no track record of success themselves, or have some self-serving reason for pontificating.
• They deal with low level, non-threatening, non-helpful functionaries within prospect organizations..
• They continue to try to perfect their methodologies while their marketing relegates them to the “unknown” category, off all radar screens. They seem blind to the fact that this is a marketing and relationship business.
• They avoid real buyers because they fear rejection (or, worse, don’t know how to act as a peer).
• They think time is important and bill by the hour or day. They actually listen to unsuccessful people who claim that time-based billing is the only way to conduct business.
• They think in terms of “deliverables” and not outcomes.
• They don’t read, don’t develop themselves, and have a single “solution” to every prospect’s problems. They aren’t objects of interest or centers of expertise. In fact, they are dull.

There are significant risks in the entrepreneurial world, and if you choose to accept them, then you should be entitled to the potential of the exceptional rewards. But too many people would rather play it safe than play the game. They would rather listen to people who rationalize their own lack of success than listen to those who can help change behaviors to create success.

Buddy eventually looked over at Koufax, looked up, sniffed, and joined the German Shepherd in sentry duty under the right tree, until the squirrel left. The dogs seemed satisfied, because the yard was rid of the squirrel, and they knew that dinner would be available as always in the kitchen later on.

If Beagles can learn from bigger and smarter dogs, so can you.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We couldn’t delay any longer, we were out of excuses, we were both home, the SUV was available.

The dogs had to get baths.

This is never good. As soon as we arrive at the store, Koufax digs in all four, huge paws and refuses to leave the truck, attempting to stuff himself under the dashboard. Buddy runs around like the circus guys on motorcycles racing inside those steel cages.

After we somehow wrangle them into PetSmart, we have to show their rabies certificates, and their records are found on the computer. Meanwhile, they are both desperately searching for an escape route, trying to appear as rescue dogs behind the glass, to be claimed by passersby. One of the groomers immediately recognizes that Koufax’s coat is several inches too thick (he looks like the Yeti’s dog), and tells us we must have the megasonic groom, where apparently a Dyson volcanic vacuum is applied, flown in from Bavaria.

Three of us get Koufax through the swinging gate into the grooming area, and four of us are required for the Beagle. Buddy’s claws resemble those of the extinct giant ground sloth.

Four hours later we return and retrieve them. Koufax has a habit of trying to get into the first vehicle he can, so we’ve learned to park our truck with the door open on the curb in front of the place. The groomers and Maria are exhausted, but the dogs do look rakish. (You can see them here with their PetSmart bandanas, which will not last until dinner time.)

We’ve both decided that all of this is our fault, because we enable them and tolerate this horrible behavior. Something has to change, and we’re putting our collective foot down. We should act like responsible adults. No more fooling around.

We’ve found someone with a van who will come to the house to bathe them.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Koufax and Buddy Beagle recognize the route to the vet. They are happy to sniff around outside once we arrive, but they have to be dragged into the outer office, forced onto the scale, and then manhandled into the examination room. They then hide under the chairs, which is impossible for Buddy and downright ridiculous for an 85-pound German Shepherd.

They react to the very few unpleasant times at the vet (a shot, an uncomfortable thermometer) and disregard the fact that 90 percent of the time they are merely examined, petted, and wind up with a treat. (Koufax disdains the treats, so Buddy eats both.)

We all tend to enter metaphorical rooms the same way. We remember the worst and overlook the best (or even usual). We think about the time the prospect was surly and ended the meeting early, rather than most of the fine conversations that ensued. We think about the tough audience, which had just experienced layoffs, rather than most which were eager to learn and have fun. We think about the loan officer who denied us credit rather than the branch managers who sought ways we could become better customers of the bank.

The conventional wisdom is that we’re afraid of new roads, but I’ve found that too many are afraid of some roads well traveled. They recognize the path, think of the worst, and act accordingly: hesitant, fearful, suspicious—not exactly at their best.

Recognize the potential in every familiar route. If you feel the best outcome only occurs in the minority of visits, perhaps it’s because your attitude is such that you’re expecting the worst, so the best is an exception.

If you can’t travel the route confidently, perhaps you don’t belong on the road. Unlike Koufax and Buddy Beagle, you’re the one driving.

© Alan Weiss 2010. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

When Koufax chases Buddy in the house, as though he’s after a squirrel or rabbit, he sometimes has a glint in his eye wherein neither I nor Buddy can tell if he’s playing or serious. Buddy then performs an interesting maneuver.

He jumps on a couch or hassock and confronts Koufax eye-to-eye. He can’t outrun him, and can’t really fight him from the ground. But, even with smaller teeth, claws, and a shorter reach, he can be pretty formidable at eye level. He and Koufax feint and dodge and weave with great bearing of dentition, but no one gets hurt, and soon the Shepherd gets bored and finds a football or tennis ball to play with. Buddy catches his breath and tries to find some food to steal, and we’re back to normal.

Buddy has leveled the playing field.

Here are some techniques to level the playing field when you tend to be intimidated by people or environments:

• Meet on neutral turf. Suggest a meal, which you pay for, or an event.
• If you’re in someone’s office and they say, “Make yourself comfortable,” sit on the casual furniture, not across the desk from your host.
• Study the company and/or the person to get advance intelligence, easier than ever these days. (At a major gala and fundraiser, a man I had just met seated next to me asked about “Million Dollar Consulting” and my last trip to Australia. I was aghast. He told me later he had asked his host about the seating arrangements, and then Googled me.)
• Be aware of the moment. Have you read the newspapers today? Have you watched the news? Have you read up on the events which tend to affect the other party?
• Check things out in advance. Ask a third party what the attire is, if gifts are expected, if gratuities are allowed, when most people plan to arrive, and other things that are making you uncomfortable or uncertain. Always get to meetings at least 30 minutes early and have something to read. Wait and contemplate, don’t rush.
• Don’t shoot yourself in the foot. It’s very hard to hold a drink in one hand and eat shrimp cocktail with the other, for instance, or to graciously eat a sparerib at a reception. Don’t walk on thin ice with a flamethrower pointed at your feet.
• Be prepared for the usual inquiries or objections or skepticism. If someone asks how you can be of help as “just a solo practitioner,” don’t tap dance about networks or resources coming out of thin air. Just say, for example, “All of my larger clients seem to prefer that, why wouldn’t you?”
• Never accept deliberate malice or passive/aggressive behavior. If someone says (as one person did to me who was making $2 million annually), “You’re from New York? That’s the sewer of the universe,” reply, as I did, “Tell me, what makes you people in Boston so insecure?” (That’s what he needed and we worked together just fine.) If someone in HR says, “We’ve had bigger name consultants than you,” just reply, “Yes, and I’ve had bigger name clients.”
• Always be prepared to smile and laugh. Don’t be afraid of using humor. Released endorphins are wonderful things. (Are there “free-range endorphins”?)

If a Beagle can face down a German Shepherd, you really shouldn’t be having too much trouble leveling the playing field. But remember, you’re a different species.

So don’t jump on the hassock.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

My wife and I were leaving to workout this rainy, gloomy morning, and she opened the kitchen door to let the dogs back in from their early constitutional. However, there were no dogs. My wife soon found that the large gate up the hill—used by the tree and lawn guys to get heavy equipment in—was open.

We went into our “find the dogs” drill which we hadn’t used in years (wehn the Great Dog Trotsky ran away weekly) and she grabbed the truck keys while I headed for the front door. Lunging out the door, I nearly tripped on Koufax and Buddy, tails wagging, doggy smiles, very wet, but obviously quite pleased with themselves. (Koufax doesn’t usually run off the property unless he’s chasing something, but then returns, and Buddy knows that if Koufax comes back and he doesn’t, he’s in deep, deep trouble. Nonetheless, we panic if we can’t find them.)

Apparently, some strong winds had blown the gate latch up, and Koufax’s weight was sufficient to do the rest, though these are six-foot long devices. Neither dog likes getting wet, so they probably were looking for a faster way back inside. They know all the entry points. They went to the place we always return to when we’re out for a ride.

I find that many consultants often find an open gate. They run through and go frolicking through the woods. It could be an offer of “collaboration” from someone; it may be some very dubious advice someone with even more dubious credentials presented at a meeting; it might be some technology, or social platform, or “exposure” opportunity from (of course) doing some work for free.

Just because someone opened a new egress, or you leaned against a door and it opened, doesn’t mean life is better out there. You have to create you own paths through intelligent marketing which reflects your value to the most appropriate possible buyers. That’s a deliberate and informed journey, not a romp through the woods.

Understand your value, your buyers, and your market. Then create a path for them to come to your door whenever possible. Don’t just go racing through the countryside looking for opportunity.

Even dogs have the good sense to come in out of the rain.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Koufax waits for Buddy Beagle to come through a gate—any gate—and then pounces on him. Buddy, realizing this, fakes his entrances until he thinks Koufax is bored or not looking. Koufax, in turn, pretends to be looking elsewhere—well, you get the idea.

So it was that Buddy ran into the pool area through the gate from the backyard and Koufax whipped around to chase him. Buddy motored around the periphery of the pool, low center of gravity, great on the turns, and clearance underthe diving board. By the time he was halfway around, Koufax had stopped, watched the beagle’s progress, and simply reversed his course to cream him as Buddy came full tilt, tongue hanging out, around the final turn to his starting point. Buddy was intense, focusing on his escape strategy (run like a crazy person) while Koufax took time to size up the overall lay of the land. When you run in a circle, you always return to the same starting point.

It’s always better to work smart, not hard. That must be how German shepherds could take care of so many sheep by themselves. Those sheep are undoubtedly not as smart as Buddy.

Are you intent on your daily routine? Do you use the same “formulas” to deal with clients, prospects, and peers? Do you wind up wasting time and energy because you’re not taking more of an overview and looking at the topography? Tenacious is admirable, tendentious is not. Just because you’re running full tilt doesn’t mean you’re making progress.

In fact, you might be running right into the jaws of a much larger dog.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

This morning, as I was eating my cereal before heading out to my sadistic trainer, I noticed that Buddy Beagle was not all over me trying to get the remnants of my breakfast. He normally scarfs down his own morning meal, then tries to hit on me before Koufax, who chews all his food exactly 32 times, is finished.

I mozied over to the other side of the island where the dogs dine, and found that Buddy, behind my wife’s back, had nosed off the lid of Koufax’s 20 pounds of dog food, and was silently munching away. Koufax didn’t care, since food is a minor event for him, but my wife chased Buddy through three rooms.

Buddy Beagle attempts this move EVERY DAY. He has never been successful in almost five years, but he was this morning. Whether my wife hadn’t adequately secured the top, or Buddy found a new angle, or Koufax helped him out, I don’t know. All I know is, he finally made it.

You have to keep showing up. People in my Mentor Program will bemoan the fact that things haven’t improved even though they are following all the right recommendations. But it’s not just a matter of doing the right things in the right way—it’s also a matter of doing them continually and consistently.

Golfers prior to a shot, basketball players before a free throw, and tennis players just before their serve, will all go through the exact same motions and actions. If the shot or serve isn’t good, they’ll still go through the same regimen the next time. Eventually, more shots are good than bad. We’re after success, not perfection.

Don’t let up. If you do the right things with discipline, determination, and dedication, you will eventually succeed.

Even if you only have four toes.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

The pool is open for the season! Koufax enjoys resting amidst the Hostas, while Buddy Beagle prefers a good Yucca.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

My friend, Guido Quelle, was here recently from Germany for my Shameless Promotion Workshop. He began speaking to my German Shepherd, Koufax, in German. Koufax, notoriously aloof and gnomic in his relationships, immediately warmed to Guido, and permitted extensive petting and scratching.

Now, I know that Koufax can’t understand German, and that there are not ethnic or racial origins involved here, right?

Right?

Perhaps it was just Guido’s way with dogs (he has two of his own), or his tone of voice, or perhaps is was Koufax’s discernment of a kindred past. But he certainly took to Guido exceptionally well.

Some prospects take to us exceptionally well, and some clearly do not. In many cases, it’s the prospect’s problem: preoccupied, overwhelmed, poor attention span, arrogant—whatever. But in some cases it’s our fault, therefore controllable and worth trying to avoid doing (and certainly prevent constantly repeating).

What are others’ first impressions of you? You probably don’t know what they are. Are you dressed professionally and stylishly, or are you rumpled and out of date? Do you smile or do you look nervous and grim? Do you have a firm handshake or a limp lump of pasta that falls short of al dente? Are you carrying a smart briefcase or are you a pack horse with computers and ragged baggage? Do you know where to sit after you’re asked and how to open a conversation, or are you bouncing around like a metal orb in a pinball machine?

You only get a one chance to create a first impression. Since most of us are engaged in such rituals frequently, wouldn’t it be a clever idea to get good at it? And that includes your email, blog entries, tweets, and other non-personal impressions. I’ve always thought that people with 17 initials after their names on their business cards, none of which I can figure out, are trying to overcompensate, and that those who ask you to send them a package and don’t have a physical address in their signature file, are just not trying.

In any case, a great first impression can overcome even the prospect’s bad habits, costs nothing, and is easy to replicate once learned and practiced. Koufax is back to his old self, but I found an empty bottle of Löwenbräu in the yard the other day, and I’m beginning to suspect something isn’t quite right….

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

The dogs and I were completing our coffee run this morning, turning into the main gate. Koufax was riding shotgun, and Buddy was perched on the truck’s console. We cleared the gate and the three of us came face-to-face with three deer. The smallest was about the size of Koufax, though with slightly longer legs. The six of us just stared for about five seconds. Then the dogs went manic.

While I tried to control them and still watch the deer, which simply trotted around on the grass, I marveled at how many deer were living amongst us, just 60 seconds from Main Street, in wooded areas. The deer were curiously reluctant to leave, when I noticed that the dogs’ focus was not on them, but on two additional deer I hadn’t seen on the other side of the truck, near the bridge. The five joined, took another long look at the two apparently mad dogs, and wandered down by the creek.

I drove up to the house, and Koufax jumped out and headed for the door. Buddy Beagle made a frenzied charge, nose to the ground, trying to make up 200 yards on the deer. I caught Buddy before he caught them. Obviously.

There is a school bus I can see from my den window, through the rear yard’s trees, and a plane silently soaring away from the Providence Airport. And yet, not far away in the other direction, easily within site from other parts of the house, the deer are probably still grazing (or whatever deer do).

It’s refreshing on occasion to stop thinking about “challenging economic times” and just contemplate life. If the deer can survive and even thrive, so can we.

© Alan Weiss 2009. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

In one of those bizarre coincidences, the alarm on the bridge leading over the waterfall to our house was deactivated by mistake, and concurrrently the house alarm stopped indicating which doors were being opened as entry points. Both were easily rectified, but they persisted for four days before we got around to correcting them.

During that time, the dogs stopped greeting us at whatever door we were using to return. Typically, they would be barking, howling, and leaping at one of the doors, but now we would enter and hear them distantly in the master bedroom upstairs, running down the hall to belatedly greet us. (They had been asleep in our bed, of course.)

Both Koufax and Buddy Beagle had readjusted their senses to listening for the bridge alarm to cue them to come downstairs, then listening to the house alarm to alert them which door to head for. (Sometimes they would watch from an upstairs window at the sound of the alarm, and just see where the car was headed, knowing which door we would have to use.) When I’m home, the bridge alarm will trigger Koufax to go to the hallway window to see who’s coming, and whether they are bark-worthy. (He loves to intimidate my bookkeeper, and assumes treats from the UPS guy.)

They are both capable of hearing, smelling, and seeing vehicles approach. But they’d become reliant on an intermediary system. I’m not sure that’s good, especially for a watch dog. Then again, we all tend to become reliant on intermediaries.

We don’t talk to management with our problems, we talk to call centers, often halfway around the planet. There are “executive staffs” which intercept and respond to letters from consumers to company brass. We receive automated phone reminders of doctors appointments and cable company visits. We use the web for airline reservations and restaurant recommendations.

The intermediary isn’t always human.

The problem with intermediaries is that they don’t necessarily reflect power or influence or even remediation. They are often buffers with their own agendas (if human) or with no vested interest (if not human). If your objective is to complain to an officer with power, but the intermediary’s is to prevent that very act, you can see the eternal struggle. They only “win” if you “lose.”

I refuse to deal with meeting planners, event planners, “agents,” or bureaus unless it is to speed the way to a real economic buyer. The intermediaries are too wound up in their own turf, their own ego, and their own idea of what should be happening, usually in complete and utter ignorance of strategy and corporate insight.

Similarly, I don’t deal with reservations clerks when I have a hotel problem. I call the manager of the hotel. (The odds are that you won’t be able to visit the office of the CEO of Delta Airlines, which is a despicable operation, but you will be able to visit the office of a hotel manager when you stay at that property, so there is a motivation to communicate with you before you camp out on the floor.)

I noticed with the bridge alarm off for the third day that Koufax was beginning to rouse himself using his own outstanding sensory apparatus. He realized his intermediary “trigger” was failing him. Too many of us don’t perceive that. We assign our fates to others—humans and non-humans—and assume we’ll be taken care of.

Don’t bet on it. You’re better served sniffing around on your own.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

On the mornings when we get into the truck to go for coffee, Koufax makes it a point to run down the slope to the pond and chase all the ducks which have gathered to be fed. He does this religiously.

Koufax has never, to my knowledge, caught a duck, nor does he seem to try. He simply lopes along the declivity, watching between 50 and 100 ducks take to the air in a blizzard of feathers.

The dog appears to be smiling.

He never tires of this nor, evidently, do the ducks, because they return as soon as Koufax is safely in the truck. Sometimes they land again before he’s even in the truck. And they do the same thing the following morning.

This is a comfortable ritual for all of us. I then feed the ducks and the dogs and I drive off. By the time we’re back, the ducks have finished breakfast. If they’re lounging on the grass, Koufax will again run down, tail and head up, far more interested in the relationship than in a repast.

We all need to create positive habits. The ducks know that they get a free meal, especially important in the winter, by putting up with the dog for a few minutes. (Buddy Beagle engenders no such fear or flight, but the ducks know he’s never around without the German Shepherd.) Koufax looks forward to making these creatures fly and creating a great racket and flurry of feathers.

And I look forward to my inclusion in the fun.

What are you doing to create constancy of enjoyment and a regimen of reward for yourself? I’ve found that dogs are quite good at it, and I’m getting better and better.

And I find that Koufax, Buddy, and I are all looking up at the sky at the same time.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I walked over to a neighbor’s this morning to discuss some property issues, and decided to walk Koufax the quarter mile or so. We tricked Buddy Beagle (with whom walking is akin to jumping on a pogo stick while balancing stacks of dishes) into going into the back yard, and Koufax ran to the front door as soon as he saw his leash.

On the way home, back on our property, I removed his lead and he headed over the bridge at a gallop. The driveway takes what amounts to a 90-degree turn, with bushes and trees densely bordering it, so it’s easy to lose site of the Shepherd. But he does an interesting thing: He charges ahead, stops, looks to his left and right with head and ears raised, then turns back and watches to make sure I’m following. Once convinced, he races on again.

This is more than clever, this reaches astute. And it’s a lot more astute than many leaders I’ve seen.

I’ve worked with absolute visionaries who have ultimately been let go because their vision exceeded their pragmatism. That is, they never looked left or right to see what was on the periphery (better opportunities, looming threats, someone racing ahead), nor did they look back to see if the rest of the organization was able to keep up. They didn’t have the sense of a German Shepherd.

Innovation, alacrity, agility, resourcefulness—these are all admirable traits. But any trait taken to an excess in isolation of the environment can lead to disaster. If you’re going to lead, you’d better be sure it isn’t in a tunnel. If you’re going to gallop, it can’t be like a horse with blinders, artificially focused solely on what’s ahead. You had better be looking around with your head up in awareness.

And as an organizational leader or a consultant, pausing to look back and ensure that others are willing to follow, have followed, and are following the correct path isn’t dilatory, it’s merely prudent. You have to get there “firstest with the mostest,” to quote Nathan Beford Forrest, not “firstest and all alone.”

Admonish your clients to lead boldly but to be cognizant of the movement of others. Visionaries are fine, but dreamers aren’t. Koufax is smart enough to look around him. His speed is tempered by being in the moment.

And, therefore, I trust him enough to always let him off his leash.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

The Great Dog Trotsky lived with us for 14.5 years. He was half Siberian Husky and half German Shepherd, weighed a prodigious 100 pounds, and took no prisoners. He was a tough customer and, like a tyrannosaurus, he would just as soon scavenge than hunt.

We fed him twice a day. Once, when he was about six, my wife forgot to feed him in the evening. The next morning, at about ten minutes before he would usually be fed, he began to bark in my wife’s face. And he continued that habit, morning and night, for the rest of his life.

Apparently, his tolerance for missed meals was exactly one. When my wife was seated, Trotsky was eye level with her, and if you stood, he could stand on his hind legs, put his front paws on your shoulders, and stare you right in the eye.

I don’t know what internal clock, through solstices, equinox, and leap years, enabled him to determine when it was ten minutes prior to being fed, but he knew unfailingly. When he started to bark our terrier would simply head for the kitchen.

I believe that too many of us set too high a tolerance for failure to support us, to respond to us, to assist us. Bovine-like, we take our ticket and take our seat, hoping that the line will move rapidly for our driver’s license, social security card, or sliced Provolone. We continue to complain to authorities who are paid to absorb complaints as if they were sponges, wrung out at night by corporate management, and ready to absorb again tomorrow. Does it really help to complain to low level people in the cable company, or at the cell phone service, or at the time share?

I always admired Trotsky because, even though he lived in a fine place and was taken care of and protected, he never took it for granted and always looked out for himself. He carefully inspected my son’s and daughter’s friends, and made his own judgments, which were quite clear. (One of my son’s life-long friends recently got a dog and named him “Trotsky” in fond memory of finally being accepted by him long ago.) He almost killed a man once in our pool room whom he thought was overly aggressive with my wife (he was, because he was smitten, but that’s another column). I’m convinced Trotsky didn’t act that way out of fealty or obligation, but because he knew what was right and wrong in his world.

We all deserve to have healthy outrage. We should stop accepting those who don’t support us, whose products and services are beneath our standards, and who drain away our oxygen.

I miss Trotsky every day, despite the terrific dogs who now live with us. But I keep his memory fresh, trying to perpetuate his fine points.

I don’t, of course, bark at my wife ten minutes prior to dinner. But then again, we eat out every night.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Arriving home this morning from my workout and coffee run, the dogs joined me as I headed for the shower so that they could mooch a treat from the “dog drawer” in the master bathroom. I tried to violate Koufax’s food hierarchy by pushing a sirloin tip at him, but he stubbornly held his mouth closed. (Try to force open that mouth and the immediate items you encounter are 1.5 inch fangs, bared, not a chore or view for the feint of heart.)

The Koufaxian hierarchy, from the top down, is: chicken jerky, puparoni, bacon slices, and sirloin tips. Since we’ve stopped stocking the jerky (despite their size and strength, Shepherds have remarkably sensitive digestion, whereas Buddy Beagle can eat anything and The Great Dog Trotsky simply worried about whether he could get his mouth around something, which he usually could), and we were out of puparoni. But the bacon was there, so the sirloin tip was not acceptable.

This is a progression that Koufax follows rigorously, even with his toys. He’d rather have something that squeaks or makes noise, and will always grab that before just a passive chew toy.

Seems to me that we could all use that kind of clarity. I’m tired of people saying, “Why did I settle,” or “They talked me out of that,” or “I need to be stronger.” Simply understand your hierarchy of needs (with apologies to Abraham Maslow) and stick with it. Take a look at what’s in the drawer before you just grab something, grateful merely to be there.

Of course, when people try to force something on you, it doesn’t hurt to bare your teeth.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

Buddy is all full of himself this morning since a Beagle won at Westminster last night for the first time in history. (Beagles are the only breed continually on the “10 most popular” list since its inception in the early 20th Century.)

I know why this dog won. Because he’s, well, a dog. He’s not poofed up like the aftermath of a blow dryer explosion, or fragile like a rail-thin Supermodel, or skittish as if walking on egg shells over ice.

I direct you to the video on this blog titled, “Beagle Lessons.”

Fortunately, Koufax isn’t upset since he considers beauty competitions beneath him, despite the claim that it’s all about the scholarships.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Koufax is still sleeping on the couch in our bedroom this morning, because he saw me put on my workout clothes, meaning I’m not taking the truck and he can’t go with me for coffee and dog biscuits. If I had put on street clothes, he would have shepherded (literally) me out of my closet, to my den, wait for me to get my glasses, then to the kitchen door to go into the yard. He then would have watched and listened for the upper gate to the garage or the lower gate to the pool to join me at the exit we were to take to the truck after I had fed the ducks.

Buddy Beagle would have simply followed Koufax, trying to protect himself as the shepherd pummeled him every few yards, adrenaline racing.

If my wife or I touch a plastic garbage bag, Koufax immediately heads for the truck, because he knows the dogs are allowed to join us for the 200 yard trip down the drive and over the bridge to the front wall where the garbage will be deposited and collected. (We own a truck to haul out the garbage, take the dogs for rides, and plow through the couple of major storms that usually hit in the winter.) He is with us every step of the way, and can open the storm door by himself if he thinks we’re taking too long.

If an untrained German Shepherd can adopt habits and change behavior, which leads to his happiness and success, why can’t human beings?

Recently, a development director (fund raiser) at a major arts group engaged my wife and me in a conversation at an event for major contributors. He engaged us by talking about himself 99% of the time! When a woman walked over whom we knew, and who has millions to donate to arts groups, he stopped her conversation with us and did the same thing!

At a ball a couple of months ago, one of the chairs invited us to sit at her table, with a small group of people we had never met. One of the men told me that our hosts had mentioned us to him, so he Googled me, and told me he was quite impressed by my accomplishments. He was an entrepreneur and was very interested in hearing from my wife and me. His wife was—drum roll—the development director for the very group sponsoring the evening. She gave us a perfunctory “hello” and didn’t speak to us for the rest of the night. She never asked for my card or inquired as to our involvement with her organization (which was minimal). In fact, she barely spoke to anyone, and seemed bored by it all.

I love it when the development directors complain at board meetings that it’s so hard to raise funds in this economy, that government is cutting back, that corporate giving is down, that the board members have to make up the difference. It seems that when times are bad, it’s the fates, not them; when times are good, they are geniuses, it’s not the rising tide. Isn’t it marvelous when it’s never your fault, and always your credit?

If you’re charged with raising money and you’re too self-absorbed to bother to learn what passions and goals other people have, to engage them in your cause, to demonstrate how their self-interest is met by contributing, then you ought to be in another line of work, and stop taking up money and space at an organization which needs better social skills and business acumen.

Just don’t apply for a shepherd’s job. You don’t have the talent.

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

We took the dogs for a checkup today and, of course, they went crazy. Buddy doesn’t like the vet, but he loves human contact of any sort. Koufax loathes the vet and would rather not be touched unless he asks to be. In the hubbub, while the vet checked Buddy out, we lost track of Koufax. All of us, plus the vet’s assistant, were in a large examination room with one chair, and I’m sitting on it.

When Buddy is done, we look down and there’s Koufax, hiding under the chair! That is, sort of. The 85-pound Shepherd has managed to get his head and shoulders under the chair, but the rest of him is in plain sight taking up a good part of the room. “I wonder where Koufax went?” asked the vet, with unabashed sarcasm.

We hauled him out, and speculated that if he tried that in the wild, a raccoon might say, “I see a big, white, German Shepherd rear end sticking out from behind that bush, so I’m suggesting we do not go that way….”

While he got his ears cleaned and his nails clipped, the assistant asked, “Is this the dog who catches squirrels?” somewhat astonished.

How many of us are hiding in broad daylight, thinking we’re safe from perceived danger, but fooling only ourselves?

© Alan Weiss 2008. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I had a guest in my home recently and before we left for lunch I released the dogs from the bedroom to go outside for awhile. Koufax stopped briefly near the guest, moaned softly, and headed off, as if he had an appointment elsewhere. When I let them back in, he looked as his dog bed, checked out a toy, moaned, then picked up the toy and trotted upstairs.

Koufax’s moan is a VERY soft “Hmmmmmmmmm…..”

Guest: Did he just moan?
Me: Yes, he’s a Moaning Shepherd.
Guest: What’s a Moaning Shepherd?
Me: (With no idea where I’m going with this.) You see that he’s white, right?
Guest: Yes
Me: That he’s the same color as the sheep he would shepherd?
Guest: Why, yes, I guess he is.
Me: Well, white Shepherds were used by human shepherds who didn’t want their presence known.
Guest: Why would that be?
Me: (Yes, why WOULD that be?) They were West German shepherds on the border of East Germany during the height of the Cold War. Their sheep would often wander through remote valleys into East German territory, where they would be confiscated if found. It was important that the shepherds’ German Shepherd Dogs not be seen, because the East German border patrol used their own Shepherds for guard duty. So, white was a big plus, mixing in with the sheep. The border guards couldn’t immediately tell if the sheep were East German or West German.
Guest: Yes, but the moaning?
Me: Well, if they were to remain unseen and get the sheep back across the border safely, they couldn’t very well bark, right? That would alert the East German Shepherds. So they had to be more subtle.
Guest: And they were taught to moan???
Me: Well, you just heard him, right? I think it may be racial, actually.
Guest: That’s astounding!

Koufax now wanders back into the room and sits a few feet away studying us.

Me: That’s nothing. Watch this. Fushkist! Fushkist!

Koufax turns his head slightly to the side at the sound of this harsh, nonsensical word, wondering what has come over me.

Guest: What did you just tell him?
Me: To turn his head slightly to the side.
Guest: You don’t mean….
Me: Yes, he understands both German and English.

We go to lunch. Koufax goes to sleep.

© Alan Weiss 2007. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

Every morning Koufax and Buddy head for the kitchen door which leads to the backyard to take their morning constitutionals. And every morning, Buddy Beagle has a dog toy in his mouth, attempting to take it with him. He will repeat this continually through the day, every time he goes out.

Sometimes it’s a small squeaky toy, but sometimes it’s a big chewy thing, including the five-foot snake both of them play with. We grab the toy, and Buddy gives it up, because he knows he won’t be allowed out with it.

Nevertheless, about once a week, he gets away with sneaking it by us, and sometimes it’s not until the following morning that we find a soggy, mephitic toy which he hid somewhere the prior day. Through perseverance, craft, and a real belief in his abilities, he is rewarded often enough to make it worth his while to cheerfully keep trying.

I’m forever telling consultants that they have to continue to do the right things. In a world of instant gratification, I’m told that people are disappointed because after an interview, a speech, a published article, or an evening of networking, no one was at the door offering a check. If it were that easy, my career wouldn’t exist and you’d be reading a horoscope this morning instead of my blog.

In marketing and selling professional service, you have to do the right things repeatedly, tweaking them a bit as some work better for you, personally, than others. After a while (which may be a year) you will understand what works best for you in your marketplace with your value.

If you’re going to give up every time you’re rejected; or take it personally every time someone isn’t interested; or get depressed every time you don’t “win,” then you need a safer, more secure line of work. Being a cashier in a supermarket, driving a bus, or pumping gas come to mind. These are important jobs which we need, but the performers aren’t in them with the belief they will become wealthy.

Of course, if you’re in consulting and don’t believe you’re here to make your clients and yourself wealthy as a byproduct of the value you provide, then you’re just pumping ideas and cashing checks and driving in circles.

This morning, I found that big snake in the yard. Buddy seemed to be in an unusually good mood, even for him.

© Alan Weiss 2007. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

At the pool today, the dogs were fighting and playing as usual when Buddy suddenly ran onto the lawn between the pool and the pond. That is unusual, because Koufax can easily run him down in the open.

Buddy was running for all he was worth but Koufax, resembling nothing so much as a Cheetah running after an Impala, was just about on him. Suddenly, Buddy hit the ground and came to a screeching halt. Koufax couldn’t stop in time, and ran right over him. By the time Koufax turned, Buddy had taken a sharp right and ducked under the bushes. It was a brilliant, gutsy tactic.

I’ve told a great many of my clients to “take a sharp right.” That means you stop a fruitless, agonizing run that you are bound to lose, and set a new direction for yourself. I’ve told clients who are number three in their industry—when the number one competitor was so far ahead as to be over the horizon—that trying to overtake them was worse than impossible, it was a criminal misuse of resources and energy.

Countless prior consultants at my clients have taken an inevitable pharisaical position: keep striving, cut costs, innovate, motivate, yada yada yada. My advice was to end the Quixotic quest and tilt at a windmill you could actually arrive at first, before the competition.

Hence, instead of being number three in the lawn treatment business, why not take a sharp right and instantly be number one in non-toxic, organic lawn management? Instead of being the number four farrier, why not be the number one in equine foot health? Instead of being a distant number two in water treatment, why not be a solid first in effluent management?

The martial arts specialize in using an opponent’s momentum against himself. That’s what Buddy did to Koufax, then took a sharp right. Koufax is still a larger, more powerful dog, but Buddy got to his destination first.

© Alan Weiss 2007. All rights reserved.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

I take the dogs for coffee on the mornings when I don’t work out. Last week, the three of us were driving out to the main road when we encountered one of my neighbors with his labrador, Chloe, walking along his lawn. The lab cautiously watched Koufax, sitting in the rear of the truck, as I stopped to chat.

Meanwhile, Buddy Beagle stepped on the front passenger’s window button (which cannot be locked out), leaped out the window like Rocky the Flying Squirrel, and rushed the big lab. Chloe was so occupied trying to keep the Shepherd in site that Buddy scared the heck out of her, seeming to drop out of the sky.

This is the top-of-the line Mercedes truck. It’s not animal-proof. It’s not dog-proof. I doubt, therefore, that it is child-proof. Any unrestrained child could lean on that button and open it accidentally. It would be meiotic to call this “dangerous.” Shouldn’t the window buttons be flush with the side of the door, not flat on an arm rest where they can be leaned on (or stepped on)? Shouldn’t the “lock out” feature apply to all windows?

After we separated Chloe and Buddy and convinced Koufax that his help wasn’t needed, we all dusted ourselves off and went on our way. At the coffee shop, I kept watching Buddy. I could be wrong, but it seemed to me that he was staring at the buttons on the arm rest, and I don’t think I’ve seen the end of this.

Years ago, a female design chief at Ford put her male engineers in skirts and told them to come up with a new design allowing women to gracefully enter and exit the car easily and, if they didn’t, she’d next put them in heels. The design was quickly improved.

Why doesn’t Mercedes allow some dogs to romp around the test vehicles? I have two candidates who will work on the basis of a project fee if Mercedes is interested.

(The Dog Star is a symbol of power, will, and steadfastness of purpose, and exemplifies the One who has succeeded in bridging the lower and higher consciousness. – Astrological Definition)

My white German Shepherd Dog, Koufax (named after legendary Dodger pitcher Sandy Koufax) is representative of the best in consulting. His companion, Buddy Beagle (just about every other Beagle is named “Buddy,” but it works) is the perfect acolyte.

Koufax is our fourth dog, after a Siberian Husky, his son, a husky/shepherd mix (The Great Dog Trotsky), and a terrier rescued from the pound. None of the first three ever caught a squirrel or much of anything else, though Trotsky periodically grabbed a sunbathing turtle and once actually caught a fish, though my son thinks the fish committed suicide.

Koufax fared no better with squirrels during his first year, but then he began catching them. This fascinated me, as a consultant, finding such a stark distinction. Was this racial, or due to speed, or craft, or a generation of stupid squirrels? What I found was rather surprising.

I would watch Koufax transfixed in front of the large windows overlooking the yard. Only his head would move. He was studying the squirrels. I thought he was just amusing himself, or wishing for one of those weapons that Wile E. Coyote buys from the Acme Company. But, no, this was a far more sophisticated study.

Not long after, Koufax caught his first squirrel because he didn’t run after the squirrel, HE RAN BETWEEN THE SQUIRREL AND NEAREST TREE. Once Koufax had the squirrel in open ground, he ran him down. This worked a small portion of the time, which was better for Koufax than no victories at all. But then, suddenly, his success rate soared. I assumed that the dog was learning from each experience, but he was learning a lot more than that.

Enter Buddy Beagle. Koufax began using Buddy for practice. Buddy would run around the yard trying to evade Koufax’s charges and used the same moves the squirrels used: a juke to the right, a juke to the left, a mad dash, a scramble for cover in the bushes. As Koufax practiced on Buddy—who is a solid guy and can hold his own when pressed—he developed superb skills.

I love animals but I also believe that nature takes its own course. The back yard alone is over an acre, and Koufax has subdued a skunk, possum, raccoon, goose, and snake, along with a dozen squirrels, that we know of. He’s a lovable dog, a great protector, and wonderful with children, but he patrols his turf.

I know you’re thinking I’m anthropomorphizing all this, or that my analysis is strictly stochastic, and maybe so. But I see Koufax having examined his problem, devised an alternative solution, and then practiced it. I don’t think all that many people do that. I think most of them keep running in the same rut and never do catch the squirrel. Instead, they claim they have a pulled muscle, or whine that the squirrel has an unfair advantage, or insist the government should give them squirrel-catching assistance, or suggest that they should be compensated for not killing squirrels.

Koufax doesn’t have access to government programs, doesn’t believe he’s a victim, and uses his native talents at every opportunity. While I’m not crazy about him killing squirrels, the birds can now eat at the feeder unmolested. And Koufax appears to feel pretty good about himself.

He also protects Buddy from the two eagles who live just over the tree line. In fact, he’s begun studying the eagles….