Grateful for a Life Shared: 15 Years with Finntroll

Forming a 15-year relationship with any living being is a special privilege, and with an animal companion, it is truly extraordinary. photo: Sara Scott

Last month, I said goodbye to my Malinois, Finntroll, also known as either Finn or Trollz, depending on his mood and mine. Having had mostly rescues before, Finntroll was the first purpose-bred puppy I purchased with the specific goal of pursuing and competing in the bite dog sport of French Ring. 

Finntroll and I shared over 15 years together, the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a canine companion. He was by my side during my late 20s, 30s, and early 40s as I learned to navigate adulthood. I’m incredibly grateful for the bond we forged and the lessons I learned during our time together. 

“Don’t get a Malinois,” people repeatedly warned me when I first declared my intention to welcome one of these famously intense Belgian herding dogs into my life. I vividly recall a client asking, "Isn't a Malinois one of the most difficult and demanding breeds you could possibly choose?" Yes. But I simply chuckled and went ahead with my plans anyway. 

It’s true Trollz was not an easy dog overall and certainly would not be a breed I'd recommend for most casual dog lovers. But he was far from the most challenging dog I’ve ever worked with over the years. 

Back then, I was known as a Pit Bull trainer, and having a high-energy herding puppy was a dramatic new experience, requiring a whole new skill set. Malinois are nothing like Pit Bulls in either temperament or needs. Both may be driven breeds, but the Malinois is a herder to its core with an innate love of biting and gripping. There were so many new lessons to learn that first year with baby Trollz by my side. 

I actively started to pursue French Ring sport training with Trollz very soon after getting him as a 9-week-old pup. At not quite 30 years old, I was extremely motivated and eager to immerse myself in the world of bite sports, which I knew very little about. The experience opened my eyes to so many vital aspects of dog training that I'd never explored before, working closely under the guidance of multiple skilled trainers as I soaked up everything I possibly could. 

I clearly remember the first time I observed a dog performing the complex, focused obedience heelwork required in the sport. I was completely entranced. How did you get a dog to offer that kind of attentive performance on his own? The answer was simple in theory but far from easy in execution. It required artful motivation paired with a foundation of thorough, meticulous training to achieve fluency. Learning the nuances and mechanics behind teaching a dog to bite and grip properly increased my knowledge and abilities tremendously, which translated directly to my regular dog behavior cases as a trainer.

People often assume dogs who train in bite sports must be aggressive or dangerous. But this is usually not the case at all. Many are simply playing an elaborate, controlled game of tug-of-war when they grip and "bite" in the context of their sport. 

However, genetics and instincts definitely played a substantial role in my dog’s case, and as Trollz matured, he began to take his job a little too seriously. By age two, he had begun exhibiting the behavior of a full-fledged protection dog. I vividly recall the first time I noticed him looking the training decoy directly in the eyes instead of focusing on the decoy's protective sleeve during a session. Oh boy, I thought, his motivations are clearly changing here. I could see his inner nature starting to surface more strongly. 

I did take some comfort and reassurance from his increasingly watchful personality and protectiveness over me in public. Trollz was always friendly and safe with regular strangers who didn't provoke us. But he definitely started closely watching the environment for any potential threats, ready to intervene in case he perceived a need to defend. 

Finntroll’s strengthened guarding instinct came in quite handy a number of times out in public over the years. One incident sticks out clearly. A drunk, belligerent man accosted me verbally in a park despite my requests for him to leave me alone. I asked Trollz to heel closely and sit next to me, hoping to avoid any aggressive confrontation. He eagerly complied, ready to take action on my cue if needed. I sternly warned the man again that he must back away immediately or my trained dog would bite to protect me. Seeing my dog’s intense stare and rigid body language, the man seemed to finally grasp the gravity of the situation, moving away to leave us in peace. While requiring extra responsibility and caution on my part, Finntroll's protective side was certainly reassuring in dicey situations like that encounter.  

By the time Trollz reached age four, he was right on the cusp of being trial-ready according to his French Ring trainers. But, as that time approached, I gradually realized that competing regularly simply was not the right choice for me and my circumstances, regardless of Finntroll's readiness. Even though he had the drive and training to compete, I felt immense internal pressure related to pursuing titles since I made my living as a professional dog trainer. I needed to admit that the trial environment simply brought up too much anxiety and self-doubt for me at that time. 

I also had to face the harsh realities of my life situation during that period of my life. I was trapped in an abusive relationship and just struggling to cope day-to-day. Earning ribbons in a dog sport could not be a priority. 

Through it all, Trollz stuck faithfully by my side, offering his steady comfort and loyalty, never wavering. I remember many tearful nights when he would gently approach and sit stoically in front of me, allowing me to bury my face in his furry neck for solace as I hugged him. He always seemed to sense when I needed support and provided it without any formal training cues from me.

As Finntroll entered his early senior years, his eyesight began to fade. But he never let his declining vision slow him down or dull his intense spirit. Once on a walk, he and my dad encountered an aggressive bear with cubs. The bear approached quickly. Having been trained in bite sports, Trollz barked fiercely and backed away with my dad, ready to protect if needed. I always joked that Trollz wanted a warrior’s death, and this encounter sealed the deal. My aging dog would undoubtedly fight a bear without hesitation if needed to protect his people. 

Given his gradually declining physical condition, I assumed senior Finntroll would start to mellow out a bit and want to relax more in his later years. But that couldn't have been further from the truth. He still possessed the same fiery drive and intensity as when he was a young performance dog in his prime. His mind and heart were always ready and eager for action, even when his body couldn't always match that same zeal. He never failed to let me know in no uncertain terms when he needed more exercise and mental stimulation, which was nearly every day even into old age. 

Trollz could never be counted on to just chill out and settle calmly indoors for a lazy day. He was always raring to go patrol, train, walk, or work. His pedigree and bloodlines, originating from the Loups du Soleil Malinois breeding program, definitely lived up to the "Lou Loops" nickname commonly associated with that line. 

Once Finntroll hit 15, he did finally start sleeping a bit more during the day, his sole concession to the aging process. But we still enjoyed our long sunset walks together during which he never failed to proudly present found sticks and branches to me while busily patrolling and marking every tree and shrub that crossed his path. Despite his almost complete vision loss, he maintained stellar off-leash recall and hiking manners even as his muzzle went fully gray. 

As Finntroll’s mobility declined, I assisted him up and down stairs and made sure he always had soft beds that were easy on his arthritic joints. He came to especially enjoy accompanying me on relaxing car rides to the coffee shop, happily snoozing in the backseat amidst all the sounds and smells.

When the very hard decision to say the final goodbye arrived, I agonized endlessly over whether it was the right time or if I was prematurely cutting our journey short. But in his characteristically stoic way, wise old Trollz made the choice crystal clear for me: it was time for him to go. Once I accepted that, we had one last perfect night together at home. With the vet's gentle help, Finntroll left this world in a calm, peaceful manner with me right by his side. It was as beautiful a goodbye as I could have hoped for. 

Forming a 15-year relationship with any living being is a special privilege, and with an animal companion, it is truly extraordinary. While my days and home feel much quieter now without Finntroll’s larger-than-life exuberant presence, I'm slowly adjusting to his absence. I will be forever grateful for the amazing times we shared. 

There will always be a piece of my heart reserved just for him, but I know there will be room for another faithful canine companion by my side again when the time is right. Processing the intense grief of loss while holding onto a spirit of gratitude is a difficult, but important emotional journey. 

I will never forget the boundless joy and purpose that Finntroll brought to my life. While our time together was far too short, I wouldn't trade a moment of it for the world.