That’s when I realized all the beauty and obedience I remembered from puppies actually came from a stable adult dog.

Puppies are truly different.

This article is a collaborative translation by Claude, reviewed by Selena Chen. In case of any discrepancies, the original traditional Chinese version shall prevail.

The Answers AI Can’t Give Are in Books

Although I wasn’t starting from zero, there was still a lot to learn. In the AI era, I’m used to asking LLMs everything first, but AI’s deliberately accommodating answers, hallucinations that look convincing, mixed methods from various schools, and solutions lacking contextual understanding left me very confused—why didn’t following the advice work?

So I frantically turned to YouTube, trying to find “situations everyone encounters” and “contemporary best practices” from trainers and pet owners.

But when AI came up with strange terms like “acute separation anxiety” to explain my puppy’s nighttime whimpering and regression in learning, and I couldn’t find solutions on YouTube, I knew I should return to trainers’ and educators’ most systematic and comprehensive guidance.

Fortunately, I came across this book, “The Happy Dog Training Journey“, along with a few other dog training books, and started to understand my dog daughter.

Dogs Have Emotions—There’s a Reason Behind Every Canine Behavior

Dogs need to be understood… we should consider dogs’ needs and feelings as a premise before planning training, teaching, and guiding them to integrate into our lives.

As mentioned earlier, my family once had a Maltese, so I assumed I understood this breed’s behavioral patterns. But when Ming Lin, author of “The Happy Dog Training Journey“, pointed out the differences between individual dogs, I suddenly understood something I always knew but habitually ignored: “Just like human children are all different, dogs are all different too.”

Understanding this, I still felt anxious and would instinctively scare my dog, fearing she might eat something fatal. When I worried about past mistakes—giving wrong responses at inappropriate times that could cause behavioral breakdown—another quote from the author gave me relief:

Don’t worry about being too late to change, because when you have clear thinking and a calm attitude, behavioral training becomes more effective.

I once thought AI was an encyclopedia for dogs, able to provide solutions to any problem. But when the author used “the meaning of a dog scratching” as an example, along with various intertwined issues (such as behavioral regression and barking problems), to explain the complex possibilities of dog behavior, I realized I couldn’t just “deal with behaviors.”

I understood that, like humans, dogs “have feelings and emotions,” and that each dog’s thoughts can vary greatly. When situations arise, we should consider the feelings or intentions behind a dog’s misbehavior, rather than rushing to avoid interactions we don’t like.

A dog’s subtle signals are a form of dialogue.

Often, conflicts (especially biting) occur because humans don’t read these signals, or read them but choose to ignore them. Trying only to force or control dogs to comply can actually trigger problems.

We usually don’t like seeing dogs make these “behavioral expressions,” and we can’t really accept when they’re unwilling to cooperate. However, know that dogs are also independent individuals with souls, possessing emotions of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, with things they like and things they dislike, just like humans.

In other words, humans should respect dogs’ behavior and, only when necessary, use friendly, humane, and positive methods to help them learn to accept or guide them to cooperate.

When Owners Are Stable, Dogs Feel Secure

I recommend this book because it doesn’t emphasize the recently popular “reward when right, ignore when wrong” positive training method.

The training principles in the book are mainly based on Turid Rugaas, emphasizing “helping dogs learn life skills,” allowing dogs to naturally develop sound physical and mental health while understanding individual needs. Some dogs simply need more time to get to know the world—they can’t be rushed.

And you know what? Sometimes people need rest, too! The author shares a case in the book where they took an exhausted, overstressed owner (too responsible) and brought the dog to a pet hotel until the owner was fully rested before bringing the dog back.

Appropriate rest allows for further practice and creates opportunities to turn obstacles into assistance, improving the human-pet relationship.

Dogs are important, but owners must take care of themselves first to stabilize both worlds. If you don’t know how to care for and affirm yourself, read “Making Self-Love a Good Habit” to find methods for self-repair and life transformation.

After all, pets can sense their owners’ emotions. When owners are tense, dogs become tense too, even connecting to wrong behaviors. Therefore, owner stability is crucial! When we stabilize, dogs feel more secure and are willing to try to understand this world.

Understanding “Better Pet Relationships and Positive Training” Through This Book

“The Happy Dog Training Journey” helps “clueless” owners like me learn to better face our dogs. When I truly understood that “dogs need time and distance,” magically, my frustration and disappointment also greatly decreased.

During the Qingming holiday weekend, when I had to face my weak and anxious dog alone right after her spaying surgery, I was originally very panicked, with emotions stronger than I imagined (feeling too sorry for her). But after reading this book late at night, I suddenly understood what I should do.

• Respect her need for quiet rest and don’t disturb her with frequent check-ins.
• Notice her fear of urinating and defecating due to abdominal wound pulling, which caused tension, barking for help, and even freezing. So I immediately found alternative food (wet food, emphasizing health supplementation, increased water intake, and easier defecation) and actively helped her when she went to the bathroom.
• At the same time, I knew removing the cone could worsen the wound through licking—behavior bad for her—so I found ways to distract her but firmly kept the cone on without spoiling her.
• Prevent her from running and jumping, but use snuffle mats and other static games to relieve her stress.
• Pay closer attention to cleanliness, including eye drops, cone maintenance, and water bowl cleanliness, to make her more comfortable.
• Apply for work-from-home to accompany the vulnerable dog.

I may not have done everything perfectly, but at least both my dog and I were comfortable. I wasn’t as tense as before, full of educational shouting or management, interacting at inappropriate times, or ignoring her dog nature, adding to mutual frustration.

Everything spent on dogs may not return one-to-one, but it’s definitely not wasted.

Thank you to this book for helping me better understand my furry daughter, enabling me to treat her better, and allowing myself to relax, reducing frustration and disappointment, and rediscovering the beauty and cuteness of dogs.

If you’re interested in this book, consider purchasing it through the following channels. I receive 2-3% commission, which supports website operational costs and stray animal organizations.

1. Readmoo E-book Version (color, fixed-layout e-book)
2. Physical Book Version

His father left soon after he was born. His mother loved him but was fragile and often ill, so Pacino grew up rebellious, full of mischief, and later struggled with alcohol.

He had a group of childhood friends he remembered all his life. They weren’t “good kids” in the usual sense, but they filled his loneliness, stood by him, and pushed him forward. Sadly, many of them died young from drug addiction.

A Lucky Survivor, A Lifelong Calling

These experiences taught Pacino how lucky he was to have survived, and shaped his tough, never-quit attitude. Raised poor on the streets, he was lucky to have his grandparents and mother caring for him, which kept him away from drugs, crime, and violence.

One key turning point was his middle school teacher, Blanche.

Blanche, full of passion for teaching, once climbed five flights of stairs to tell Pacino’s grandmother: “You must let this boy keep acting. This is his future.” For Pacino, this was simple but priceless. No one else had ever put in that kind of effort just to encourage him — to believe in him, like “a blade of grass pushing up through the cracks of concrete.”

When he was performing the play Tiger at the Gates, his mother and grandfather passed away one after another. In his early twenties, broken by grief, Pacino discovered what he truly wanted for life.

He wrote:
“One night during a performance, everything suddenly happened. This power of expression opened before my eyes in a way I’d never seen before. The strange thing is — I hadn’t even been looking for it. It just came. Suddenly, at that moment, I knew I could do anything. The door was opening, not to a career or to success or money, but to a kind of life force. My soul understood, and I had no choice but to say: I want to do this for the rest of my life.”

From then on, acting became the reason he lived — his one true passion.

The Commitment of a Method Actor

The book also shows Pacino’s identity as a method actor, and his devotion to the craft. He wrote:

“In a way, your preparation for any role is always the same. You have to organize yourself and bring yourself into the character. You have to understand another person inside you. I guess there are many versions of ‘me’ inside. As an actor, your performance always reflects your feelings about things. As an actor, you are always searching for identity and connection.”

By the end of the book, Pacino describes reaching a place where acting was second nature, like breathing. He could even perform his one-man Broadway play China Doll for two hours straight, reading from a teleprompter, and still enjoy every moment.

Why This Memoir Drew Me In

What I liked most was Pacino’s mix of humor and brutal honesty. In the chapter Grown-Ups Don’t Do That, he said:
“Honestly, when I was young, I worked hard to stay apart. I thought, the less people knew about me, the more they would appreciate the characters I played. So I stayed quiet.”

This kind of raw self-analysis can feel almost shocking, but it’s also deeply sincere.

Many autobiographies still feel polished, full of filters and packaging. But Pacino, now in his eighties, looks back on his youth with clarity and openness. He shares without hiding, as if nothing can or should be concealed anymore.

I also liked the imperfect stories — sometimes politically incorrect, sometimes painful. He doesn’t try to excuse or decorate them; instead, he tells them plainly, often with a hint of reflection or even self-criticism (like the incident when his friend Cliffy attacked a teacher).

Flaws and Truths

Some readers wanted more: more about Pacino’s relationships, more thoughts on other great actors, more behind-the-scenes secrets of his films. Others hoped for more of his philosophy as a lifelong reader, or his family life.

If you compare it to Matthew McConaughey’s Greenlights, McConaughey’s book is definitely more philosophical, even cryptic at times. Sonny Boy feels calmer and less dramatic, but there are still gems fans will appreciate, scattered across chapters.

For example, Pacino writes about the early death of his close friend Norman Ornellas and fellow actor John Cazale. In The Deer Hunter (1978), the cast covered John’s insurance so he could keep working, while Meryl Streep, John’s partner, cared for him through his illness. Pacino also recalls filming Cruising (1980). Troubled by how it stigmatized the gay community, he donated his paycheck anonymously to a charity trust — not for PR, but to ensure something positive came out of a negative project.

To some, these may be familiar Hollywood anecdotes. But I liked how carefully Pacino and co-writer Dave Itzkoff handled them — without turning the book into gossip, or rewriting his life to attack or glorify.

Struggles With Fame and Addiction

Another striking part is his honesty about loneliness, failure, and alcohol. He admits feeling isolated on set, not connecting with certain scripts (yes, even Han Solo in Star Wars!), and bouncing between jobs before being fired. His struggles with drinking are described in painful detail.

One moment stood out: staying at a friend’s house, blacked out from drinking, he was told he’d just won a National Board of Review award for The Godfather. All he could say was, “Do you know a psychiatrist? Because I need help.” That gap between fame and his inner despair shows how urgently he needed recovery. Thankfully, he did eventually get sober.

Highs and Lows

I loved the part where, on the night he won his Oscar, he flew straight to the next film set. He reflected:
“When you look back, what does life really give us? Maybe it’s just wiser people sharing some applause with all of us. That little bit of recognition can get you through a night. Maybe even a lifetime.”

Reading this moved me so much. It made me want to give more warmth and recognition to my own friends and family, to help them through tough times.

At the very end, Pacino imagines dying and meeting his mother in heaven — the mother he lost too soon: “Hey, Ma, look! This is what I became.”

What You’ll Find in This Book

If you’re a fan of Al Pacino, this memoir gives you a close look at his early life, the making of The Godfather series, and classics like Scarface and Dog Day Afternoon. You’ll also see his humor, passion, quirks, and self-reflection. With glossy photos included, it’s worth keeping on your shelf.

If you’re not a fan yet, the book still shows many sides of a great actor. You might be surprised by his Broadway work, his friendship with Robert De Niro, or his warm bond with Elizabeth Taylor.

Conclusion: An Honest Actor’s Memoir

In the last chapters, Pacino talks about his second career low — losing his fortune in a Ponzi scheme in his seventies (the first low came after The Godfather when several films flopped). Even as one of the “big three” actors of his generation, he still faced betrayal, failure, and Hollywood’s cruelty.

But he came back again, thanks to his close friends and his unstoppable love for acting.

In one interview, James Lipton asked him, “What do you hope God will say at the gates of heaven?” Pacino answered: “I hope He says: The rehearsal starts at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

That sums up Pacino perfectly — an actor for life.

Sonny Boy: Al Pacino isn’t gossip or attack. It’s a candid portrait of an actor who stayed true to his craft, fought through low points, and kept returning to the stage and screen.

Who Should Read This Book?

• Anyone who enjoys autobiographies or memoirs
• Readers curious about Hollywood and Broadway
• People going through hard times who need encouragement
• Or simply anyone who admires Al Pacino

Published by Arc Culture (方舟文化) in September 2025.

This review is based on a copy provided by the publisher. All thoughts are my own, written without editorial input.

How I May Be Wrong won me over

With its bestseller subtitle, it first looked like another “self-help formula.” In truth it reads more like a memoir, but one packed with clear, deep wisdom. Ten minutes in, I knew I wouldn’t put it down.

When I reached the chapters about Lindeblad’s depression after leaving monastic life, and then his struggle with a terminal illness — and still saw the warmth and clarity in his voice — I decided I had to write this.

I’ll keep some discoveries for you to find. Here I’ll share three ideas that stayed with me. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I even tried a few at work that same afternoon and felt something click. That night I logged into Facebook, after a long break, just to recommend the book.

My hope: after reading it, we can accept our feelings, truly let go, drop ego-driven fights and heavy emotions, and live with more freedom and meaning.

“I may be wrong”: loosening our grip on “should”

Many of us carry the thought: “I know how the world should be. When life doesn’t match, I freeze. All the ‘should’ thoughts make me resentful, heavy, and lonely.”

These thoughts come from memory, habit, and emotions — the “data” we use to predict the future — but they are not the future.

Thoughts ≠ facts

We often forget: our thoughts are assumptions, not reality. The more we cling to “It should be like this” or “I’m right” and try to control everything, the more stuck and hopeless we can become.

When Björn became a monk he was given the name Natthiko, meaning “one who grows in wisdom.” Over 17 years of meditation he learned a key lesson: “I stopped believing every thought I had.”

Because if we believe every thought, we feed those thoughts with attention and get trapped in pain. After returning to lay life he faced depression and warned: in our darkest hours, the “abyss” of thoughts can feel bottomless.

“Believing” vs. “knowing”

Does knowing our pain comes from clinging make the pain vanish? No. As he explains, understanding the source doesn’t make pain unreal — it gives us a better way to face it. That’s why he advises: don’t believe every thought.

When we hold onto scripts like “I’m right,” “Why doesn’t he think of me?” “I’ve been wronged,” we become victims of outside events and inside wishes. Blaming others is easy and comforting; it lets us dodge the hard work of looking at our own mind.

A simple mantra

A British monk, Ajahn Jayasaro, teaches a short mantra for the early warning signs of conflict: say to yourself three times, “I may be wrong.” This nudges the mind toward wiser, more constructive ground.

Centuries earlier, Rumi pointed to the same space beyond right/wrong:
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.”

Being right isn’t the point

Another teacher, Ajahn Sucitto, once told Björn during an argument: being right is not the point. Life won’t always follow our plan. If we want more peace, we can practice the stance “I may be wrong — I don’t know everything.”

This awareness runs through the book. Obsessing over being right can hide what truly matters. It can also wear down our relationships.

What really matters in teamwork?

While working in a forest monastery, the monks had to move a huge brass Buddha. People from many countries pitched in. A few Westerners (including the author) stood aside giving “better” methods. The abbot, Ajahn Jayasaro, reminded him: the point wasn’t only efficiency — it was how everyone felt after the work. In real life, especially at work, results matter, but so do feelings, fit, and trust.

Winning an argument may feel good for a moment; the friction can last much longer. Sometimes we need trust more than control. Stay with the present, not our fantasies about the future. That’s how wiser outcomes grow.

Forgiveness is for a healthier you

The second key idea: forgiveness.

It’s not about looking noble. It’s about making peace with what has already happened so your mental health is protected — so you choose what fills your heart.

When thoughts trap us, we suffer for years

Many fights are already over, but we miss the “peace signal.” We retell the injury for decades and drain our energy. You’ve probably met someone like this — the pain is real, but the other person may have moved on. The one who keeps holding the story keeps suffering.

Choosing peace in the moment

After Thailand, Björn went for alms in the UK, where Buddhism isn’t mainstream. Someone drove up, rolled down the window, and yelled, “Get a job!” He felt the inner reaction, yet found a quiet “Never mind.” In that moment he noticed a new freedom. He didn’t need to explain or win.

He realized: peace with ourselves matters most. No forced positive thinking. Just letting go.

You don’t know their battle

As the Norwegian show Skam puts it: “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.” That bit of empathy helps us step back and drop the grudge.

And a sharp reminder from the book: advice to “let go” only works on yourself. Telling others to let go rarely helps.

Bow to the unknown, welcome more possibilities

This leads to the third theme: facing uncertainty.

I love this line from the book: “Knowledge is proud of what it knows; wisdom is humble about what it doesn’t know.” We’re not all-knowing, and we’ll never be 100% right.

In practice, that means not trusting every thought — and seeing that our core is basically good. The harsh voice that says “I’m not good enough” isn’t truth; it’s just a thought.

Emotions will arise — they don’t have to own you

A Thai master, Luang Por Doon, taught: “Anger will arise, but it cannot take hold of anything.” Björn’s take: when the heart is spacious enough to hold all feelings, life softens. We will still have hard emotions; we just stop identifying with them or letting them run the show. Then they can’t push us into actions we regret.

At work I still face criticism and messy processes. The difference is I can now say, “I did my best,” let go of perfection, and stay present. Feedback can carry me forward when I’m not clinging.

From knowledge to wisdom: admitting “I don’t know”

Challenges will keep coming — that’s how we grow. The key is making room: less ego, more space for life. Can I accept not-knowing and not-controlling, and meet things calmly, instead of getting lost in “how things should be”?

Björn puts it plainly: telling yourself “I did my best” is good for you. Blaming yourself for having emotions is useless. Trying to control and predict everything just makes life harder.

A ring engraving: “This too shall pass”

He carried another “magic sentence,” even engraved inside his wedding ring: “This too shall pass.” It’s a daily reminder of impermanence. Good or bad, nothing lasts forever.

He loved a simple Chinese-style parable shared by Ajahn Jayasaro: a family’s “bad luck” turns to “good luck,” then back again — a runaway horse, new wild horses, a broken leg, then exemption from war. The wise father keeps saying, “Maybe so, maybe not.” We rarely know if something is truly good or bad when it happens.

Loosening our grip on beliefs is freeing. We know very little about the future; separating what we believe from what we actually know helps a lot. In monastic life he saw it clearly: life is full of uncertainty; the only certain thing is that life ends one day. Everything else is hope, fear, assumptions, wishes, and ideas.

Over 17 years he learned: life is like water — change is its nature. Grab at change and you suffer; be fully present and open, and you respond wisely.

Fewer clenched fists, more open hands

Letting go of wishes and rigid expectations is hard. But, as he writes, “Most of the best things in my life happened outside my control.” On a hike he learned that a deeper kind of happiness is about openness, not ownership. Open your hand; your palm can hold more than a clenched fist.

From my own life: after leaving Canada, I once thought those two years were a waste. I tried to “plan smarter.” I couldn’t foresee how those experiences would quietly reshape my career — even a short five-month import/export job later became the key to another role a decade on.

All our honest efforts become gifts to our future. We don’t have to control when they pay off. Often, timing beyond our plan turns out better than our plan.

That’s why I love Björn’s invitation: “Fewer clenched fists, more open palms. Less control, more trust. Less ‘I must know everything in advance,’ more ‘let it be.’ Leave space for miracles.”

The real normal: you can’t control everything

He admitted: “Most of the things I worried about never happened. Most of what did happen, I could never have predicted.” We grow used to handling life and start to believe we can control most of it. But real growth starts when we accept uncertainty.

Wisdom is not expecting life to follow our script, and realizing how much we truly don’t know.

6 quotes I love

• “Making peace with what has happened isn’t about being noble. It’s about protecting your mental health and choosing what fills your heart.”
• “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.”
• “Remember this: telling yourself ‘I did my best’ will do you good.”
• “I may be wrong… I thought I knew how the world should be. When reality didn’t match, I froze. All the ‘should’ thoughts made me resentful, heavy, and lonely.”
• “Fewer clenched fists, more open palms. Less control, more trust. Less ‘I must know everything in advance,’ more ‘let it be.’”

After finishing the book, whenever I’m upset I tell myself: “I may be wrong. This too shall pass. Maybe this is for the better.” And somehow it really helps — even my sleep improved.

Conclusion: How do you want to live the rest of your life?

Björn passed away too soon — a living echo of the line, “We don’t know how much sand is left in the top half of our hourglass.” We can’t control the length of our life. We can choose not to harm others, not to be ruled by ego, to face uncertainty and failure with courage, do our best, and leave room for miracles.

No need to punish ourselves or debate right and wrong forever. With trust (and a sensible amount of planning) — and with kindness — we can meet life from a quiet, steady place.

Two stories: self-discipline and ripple effects

I will know

A forest monk, Ajahn Pasanno, was warmly invited by relatives to drink alcohol. As a forest monk he had to abstain. His cousin urged, “Come on, nobody will know.” The monk looked up and answered, calmly and sincerely: “I will know.”

For Björn, this showed that goodness and restraint aren’t about rules or fear of punishment. They’re about memory and integrity — living in a way that lets you carry a lighter heart.

It matters to this one

After a storm, a girl threw stranded starfish back into the sea. An old man said it was pointless — there were thousands. The girl tossed another one in and said, “It matters to this one.”

Small good deeds still matter. Don’t skip them just because they’re small.

May we keep choosing small, steady acts of goodness — and become the kind of person we most want to see in the world.

Topics the book also explores

If my notes didn’t land for you, but these themes speak to you, the book is still very much worth reading:

• How do we face death or endings?
• How can the mind be freer?
• How do we accept people we dislike — or the fact that some dislike us?
• Why isn’t life just black and white?
• Why do things go wrong even when I’m “right”?
• Why does trust matter? When do we choose trust vs. control?
• How do we feel less disappointed and react less strongly — and stay less easily hurt?
• How do we strengthen healthy self-regard?
• Are “successful” people necessarily happy?
• What helps when we’re in a deep slump — and how do we avoid being “tormented by the abyss”?

Note: This post was translated by ChatGPT from my original Traditional Chinese blog. The quotes you see here come from the Chinese translated edition of the book. Since they’ve been translated back into English, they may not match the author’s original words exactly. Please read the book yourself for the real text, and don’t quote these lines elsewhere to avoid confusion.