101 Alsatians: Amy Peer and her Dog-Meet-Dog World

Amy arrives at the MJ offices today clutching her longhaired English Cream dachshund, Maxine – gifted to her as a puppy 14 years ago by a renowned novelist, longtime client, friend, and fitful dog lover. 

“My friend’s beloved King Charles just could not wrap her paws around the addition of this beautiful blonde bombshell to their home,” Amy explains, glancing affectionately at Maxine. “The solution was obvious. My friend knew how much we loved Maxine, and gifted her to my husband, to our male dachshund Henry, and to me!” 

Amy’s novelist friend had a naming convention for her dogs. Like Daisy and Gigi before her, Maxine’s nom de chien was torn from the white-hot pages of her owner’s bestselling novel, a namesake literary heroine whose indomitable, righteous fury would redress the scales of injustice. Maxine the dachshund, by contrast, is curled in an attitude of absolute languor at Amy’s feet. “Hi, Maxine,” I offer. She aims her little face at me and stares with doleful Adrien Brody eyes.

Dog Star

This is the story of a banker turned elite dog trainer turned Montecito Journal columnist, dog willing. Amy Peer has informed opinions about a range of things, as do we all, but her conversation goes full technicolor when she is holding forth on the subject of Canis lupus familiaris – the domesticated dog. This is a topic she has held dear – personally and professionally – for some 30 years.

“It’s about training the owner and that’s the most challenging part,” Amy says. “Like children, their dogs learn who they have to listen to and who they don’t.” This inarguable and understated fact contains volumes. Amy would be the first to note that the phrase domesticated animal suggests a behavioral continuum and a not a settled definition. Her professional petagogy accommodates this fact. 

Since the Covid tsunami, civic life has opened its arms to dogs. Oftentimes the main barrier to painting the town with your panting little pal is a less-than-optimal degree of socialization and behavior. And your dog could use a little work, too (sorry). Amy wants you to know that all things are possible if you’re willing to put in a little time. 

“You’ve got to raise your bar,” she says. “It’s got to be more than the dog not peeing in the house.” Amy’s tutelage brings human and beast to that Venn overlap of cross-species contentment that is the stuff of a lifelong relationship. For real.

“I sit down with my clients,” Amy says. “We talk about what the next 10 years looks like for them. Not just the next 10 weeks or 10 months; the next 10 years. And then we talk about what they need from their dog relationship.” 

Amy Peer – recently of Brentwood – has landed in our Village, and she is a loving force for canine good. And unique. You’ll never hear her say “our furry little friends,” for instance. Funny, warm, and bracing, she deeply understands and absolutely adores dogs. This is a potent combination. 

Both her expertise and indescribable canine empathies will inform the colorful monthly column Amy will be writing for the Montecito Journal. The section will be anchored by an Ask Amy canine advice column. Beyond that, the section’s format and emphases will to a large degree be based on what you wish the section to be, reader – you of the Canis lupus familiarisClub. This introductory treatise is your invitation to help define the MJ’s new doggie run. Please send your thoughts and ideas in this regard to the email at the end of this piece.

And now… the wildly abridged story of how Amy Peer pivoted from Banking to Barking, from Compound interest to Canines, and from Finance to Fido (sorry again). 

Peer Review

Amy hails from NY and made her way to California via her career in banking, an odyssey she summarizes with the unadorned precision of a coach whose métier is the unyielding command. 

“New York, New England, New York, Los Angeles, San Diego, Los Angeles, here.” She is a bit more florid describing her entry into banking but still tells it with… economy.

“I grew up in New York. I went to college in Boston at BU and I studied marketing and finance. I didn’t want to leave Boston, and after school I ended up working in retail for a while. One of my retail clients was in the banking industry and said, ‘You need to come interview.’ I did that and ended up taking a job at State Street Bank – known for their repo department.” Candor is another feature of Amy’s expository style. “So there I was – a peon in a pool of repo buyers and sellers.” A Senior VP there sensed the poor professional fit and referred her to a connection at the Bank of Boston.

“I ended up taking a job at Bank of Boston, and they wanted me to go to their New York office,” Amy explains. “I ended up going to two other banks in New York, ending at Banker’s Trust.”

At a given moment (not to be novelistic about it) Amy made the momentous jump from east to west. The move would constitute a sea change; a new Amy Peer. Our pilgrim describes this personal Recasting of the Self in the pointillist language she favors. “After Banker’s Trust in New York I moved to L.A. Banking, banking, banking.” 

Quite a jump, that. “This is really like coming home for me,” she says, gesturing to indicate Montecito – “…because this is the environment in Westchester, New York I grew up in.

But she had a bit more California to canvass. It was when she was banking in San Diego she found John, the love of her life. “I met my husband on Labor Day weekend in San Diego, and by November I had moved back to L.A. 

“At that point, my husband had bought me a Labrador for our first Christmas together – Kobe; our first son. I hired someone to meet me the next day at the house, a dog trainer.” The guy’s name was Michael. “He’d left a successful dog training partnership to launch the dog training program for Petco. And then you know how Petco exploded. So he went from doing actual dog training to running all these dog training facilities in all the Petcos. And Michael wasn’t a behind-the-desk kind of Guy,” she says with emphasis.” I nearly replied “who is?!” but thought better of it. “He missed the dog training in the field,” Amy continues. “It was killing him! So he got out, returned to actual training. And now he needed help. Me.” 

That kick-off was some 30 years ago. The rest is a dog’s life. Or more exactly, a five-year apprenticeship and 25 more of doggie devotion. “Michael was in the Valley and I opened up the west side of LA…” Writers, actors, singers, directors, butchers, bakers, candlestick makers – you know how it is in L.A. The peerless Amy Peer has made a name.

Before taking this energizing turn, she received the blessing of her new best friend. “I credit my husband with this whole journey,” Amy says. 

Barking Up the Right Tree 

Amy Peer wants to talk dogs, and she will be doing that once a month here in the Montecito Journal. The format will be an Ask Amy advice section augmented with… whatever the Village readers and dog lovers want. Dog fans are as various as their tail-wagging sidekicks and Amy wants to meet you where you are. Please send your ideas, preferences, and pleading imprecations to [email protected]. 

In the meantime, Amy will still be training, and she can’t wait. {..more later..} She may start with a question. 

“I’ll ask a new client, ‘Well, tell me what you do with your dog.’ ‘Um, I get up in the morning, I let them out to go to the bathroom, I feed them, they hang out with me while I’m getting ready, I go to work and they’re at home. When I get back, I let them out, I make them dinner, then we watch TV….’” Amy looks at me with an expression best described as lovingly wry – an expression some of you may come to know. 

“And I’m like no, no, no. Right now your dog is doing for you. What do you do for your dog?’”