German Shepherds Are Not Herding Dogs

Despite its evocative title, the German Shepherd Dog (GSD) is not—and never truly was—a herding breed.

Founded in 1899 by Captain Max von Stephanitz, the GSD was explicitly designed to be an all-round working dog. Stephanitz’s vision was clear: "Utility is the true criterion of beauty… the Shepherd Dog is a service[working] dog and must only be bred as a service[working] dog." His priority was general-purpose capabilities such as tracking, obedience, and controlled aggression, not specialized livestock management.

The first breed suitability trial in 1901, personally overseen by Stephanitz, confirms this. It featured three phases: tracking, obedience, and protection. Notably absent was any form of stock handling. This intentional choice set the breed’s trajectory firmly toward police, military, protection, and general utility work rather than livestock management.

The breed’s practical utility was quickly recognized, and by 1907 German Shepherds were officially serving as police dogs in the first formal K-9 unit in Hildesheim, Germany where they served as the equivalent to today’s dual purpose dogs, performing both search and apprehension. By 1914, only 15 years after its creation, the breed had become essential to military operations during World War I, serving as messengers, sentries, ammunition carriers, stretcher bearers, and attack dogs.

This rapid adoption in military and police contexts drove GSD breeding to quickly prioritize protection work, nerve stability, and obedience over livestock-handling ability. Herding became a footnote, an optional rather than essential component of the breed’s identity.

In 1922, the breed survey system (Körung) was formalized, accepting either the Schutzhund (now IGP) title or, for the first time, over 20 years after the breed’s creation, the HGH herding title as qualifying criteria for breeding. However, from inception, breeders overwhelmingly favored the Schutzhund route, entrenching traits of courage, protection instinct, and obedience in the breed’s genetic legacy. Today, fewer than one percent of surveyed dogs achieve breeding status through HGH. Rather than being central to the breed’s identity, herding ability is marginal, at best.

It’s also important to acknowledge the style of herding GSDs utilize is known as “tending,” which is distinctly different from the gathering-and-driving methods associated with breeds like Border Collies or Kelpies. Tending dogs primarily patrol boundaries, prevent livestock from straying, and protect the flock from threats rather than actively moving or grouping animals. Tasks that in fact align closely with guarding and patrol roles in police and military work, which explains why these traits were easily redirected into those roles.

Some will point to Stephanitz’s foundational book, The German Shepherd Dog in Word and Picture, citing the opening chapter titled "The Shepherd's Dog and The Herdsman's Dog" as evidence of the breed’s intended herding role. But this historical discussion outlines the breed’s pastoral origins rather than dictating its intended path. Stephanitz in fact emphasized all-round service utility throughout his book, dedicating extensive coverage to police, military, and Schutzhund champions. There are indeed photographs of HGH champions in early editions, and these are balanced by photos of dogs excelling in protection, police, and military contexts, underscoring the breed’s versatility rather than herding specialization.

Undoubtedly, latent herding instincts persist in some German Shepherds, allowing individual dogs to pass basic herding tests or assist with livestock chores. However, sporadic capability does not define breed identity. Border Collies occasionally participate in protection sports like IGP, yet no one would seriously call the Border Collie a protection dog. Occasionally competent participation in a task does not equate to breed-defining functionality.

Ultimately, the German Shepherd is an all-purpose working and protection breed whose ancestral herding instincts are incidental. From Stephanitz’s deliberate exclusion of herding in early breed trials, rapid adoption in police and military contexts, to modern genetic evidence and practical realities, it is clear that the breed’s foundational identity and ongoing selection pressures have never prioritized specialized livestock management.

German Shepherds are remarkable working dogs precisely because of their broad utility. But herding, despite occasional displays of competence, has never been, and certainly is not today, the breed’s defining purpose.

The Business of Breeding: Profit is Not a Dirty Word

There’s something inherently uncomfortable about the idea of breeding and selling dogs for profit. I feel it, and I breed and sell dogs for profit. Judging by the DMs, comments, and emails we receive at BKK9, plenty of others would agree. But this discomfort stems more from our emotional connection to dogs as pets, family members, and companions than from any rational analysis. Not only should breeders not apologize for striving for profitability, but those who truly care about dogs should actively support their breeders’ ability to profitably breed and sell dogs.

Dogs as we know them exist because of humans. The dog at your feet is as man-made as the smartphone you’re reading this article on. Over the course of thousands of years, humans guided dogs’ evolution, selectively breeding them to enhance traits that were beneficial and endearing. Without human intervention, dogs as we know them would not exist. And without continued, thoughtful intervention, the future of dogs as we know them is uncertain. This brings us to why profitability in breeding is not just acceptable—it’s essential.

Businesses generate cash through debt, equity investment, or profit. For the average dog breeder, two of these options—attracting outside investors or securing traditional bank loans—are usually off the table. This leaves profit as the primary way to sustain operations. Profitability ensures the breeder has the resources to properly care for and house their dogs, seek out strong bloodlines, conduct necessary genetic testing, and finance multiple vet visits before and after pregnancy. Profit isn’t just about financial gain—it’s about reinvestment into the business, ensuring the long-term health and quality of the breed. Given the expenses and biological uncertainties inherent to the process, profitability is also an incredibly difficult thing for a responsible breeder to achieve.

The next time you’re tempted to accuse a breeder of “only being in it for the money,” consider what it would mean for the future of dog breeds if breeders couldn’t operate profitably. Consider the welfare of dogs being housed and produced in a kennel that operates profitably and is able to provide all the necessities and creature comforts that dogs require and enjoy versus a kennel that is scraping by, cutting corners, and struggling just to feed its dogs.

Profit in breeding is not about greed; it’s about ensuring that the dogs we love continue to be bred with care, precision, and an unwavering commitment to quality. In short, profitable breeders breed better dogs, and a responsible, profitable breeder is exactly who you should want to bring your next dog into the world.

German Shepherd Owner's Guide - Part 1

At BK, there are certain philosophies that we live by. They are the framework through which we breed, raise, train, communicate, and live with our dogs. Some are based on scientific fact, some are based on our own worldview, and all are shaped by our experience and what has worked for us as trainers and owners. Over the next few months we’ll continue to add to the list.

While our focus and passion is on working breeds and German Shepherds in particular, most of these will apply to any other breed of dog.

Everything your dog does wrong is your own fault

Let me say that again. Everything your dog does wrong is your own fault. Your dog destroyed the couch? You shouldn’t have left her out while you were away from the house. Your dog tore up your shoes while you were cooking dinner? You shouldn’t have allowed him out of your sight long enough to do it, and you shouldn’t have left your shoes where he could get to them. Your dog peed on the floor? You should have noticed the signs that she needed to go and let her outside ahead of time. Your dog bites a stranger? You shouldn’t have let a stranger approach your dog. If the problem is training related, you need to be a better trainer. If the problem is behaviour related, you need to be better at managing behaviour. Dogs do dog shit. It’s your job to teach your dog what is and is not acceptable. Everything your dog does wrong is your fault.

Manage, Manage, Manage

Our dogs don’t destroy our things. Not because they don’t want to, but because they don’t have the opportunity to. From the minute a new dog enters our house, we control its environment. At first, the dog will spend every waking minute in the house either on a leash attached to me, in a crate, on a “place” bed, or in an exercise pen. Over the course of months, as the dog starts to show me that it can be trusted with more freedom, its environment then gets expanded by allowing it free run of whatever room I’m in (but still not out of sight). As he continues to show me he can be trusted, he earns more and more freedom, to the point of being allowed free run of the house while I’m away. If I slip up by allowing the dog too much freedom and it gets into trouble, we dial back to the previous step and keep going. Depending on the dog this process can take anywhere from 6 to 12 months, and in some cases the dog might never earn full freedom.

By controlling your dog’s environment and allowing it to earn its freedom, you solidify yourself as the centre of your dog’s universe, you prevent the dog from learning how awesome it feels to destroy a pair of shoes or tear up a couch, and you ensure that you don’t put your dog in a position where it gets itself into trouble for something that was your own fault.

Communicate to be understood

“My dog understands what my wife and I are saying when we talk about him”

No it doesn’t.

Dogs don’t understand words, they associate sounds and prioritize body language. If you observe the communication between a mother dog and her pups, you’ll notice it’s almost completely silent. There’s the occasional growl or bark, but for the most part there’s no sound at all. Dogs are supremely attuned to body language, but associating the sound of words with a desired action or object is much more difficult.

Not only do dogs not understand human language, they don’t even possess the concept of spoken language. Your dog doesn’t know that its name is a name, because it doesn’t know that names are a thing. It associates the sound you make with your mouth with whatever it is you usually expect of it when you make the sound that corresponds with its name. Similarly, the dog doesn’t understand that “sit” is a word with an intrinsic meaning, it understands that you expect a certain behaviour out of it when you make that particular sound. Without consistent practice your dog is unlikely to generalize the meaning of a specific sound outside the physical environment in which it is learned. This is why a dog that is “perfectly” trained in the house might seem to forget its training in a different environment. The training hasn’t been forgotten; the dog just doesn’t understand that the sit means the same thing at the park as it does in the living room. This does not in any way diminish the intelligence of dogs, but it should certainly inform how we communicate with them.

Clearly define expectations

“My dog is perfectly trained, watch.”

“Rover, sit. Sit. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. SIT! ROVER SIT!”

Rover sits.

“See that?!” Big grin.

We’ve all seen some version of this scenario before. Most dog owners don’t take the time to define, in detail, the behaviour they expect the dog to associate with their commands. In this case, the handler has unknowingly taught the dog that “sit” means that its butt is to hit the ground at some point after hearing the “sit” sound, but before you get so frustrated that it becomes an unpleasant experience for him. But was he responding to the first sit, the second one, the long sit, the loud sit, his name followed by a loud sit? Who knows.

While this level of training might acceptable to some - maybe most - dog owners, it doesn’t fly here. We define “Sit” as follows: Upon hearing the command, the dog immediately stops whatever else it is doing, puts its butt on the ground, pays attention to the handler, and stays in position until it is released. Our training is then geared towards teaching the dog to meet this standard and, once the behaviour is learned, the dog is then held accountable for consistently meeting the defined criteria.

The same goes for any other command. Whether it’s sit, down, come, place, it doesn’t matter. Define exactly what you want the dog to do upon hearing the command, train to that definition, and hold the dog accountable.

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The only guarantee when putting out content like this is that someone will tell us we’re dead wrong. Which is fine. Just don’t be an asshole about it.

Check back for more soon!