We believe that recall training is one of the most important parts of working with a dog - especially because it directly affects their safety. Different dogs may need different approaches – ideally, a good trainer can help choose the most effective method for teaching recall.

What does socialization at a place like a train station mean? We slowly lead Mrok on a leash to the station. We let him look around, sniff, and touch anything that catches his interest. We stay close but don’t interfere with how he explores. We don’t talk to him or pet him. We don’t want to create unnecessary dependencies. We let him watch people,

We drove home after dark. Little Mrok slept quietly on Monika’s lap. We glanced at each other, wondering what came next.

In Practice: Step out into the rain. If your jacket is dry – the membrane works. With heavy rain and fresh DWR, it still works, but less efficiently. Once the fabric is soaked, breathability drops to almost zero. You’ll stay dry from the outside, but wet from the inside.

We decided to listen to the trainers. But it didn’t take long to notice that real objectivity is rare. Trainers tend to recommend what they personally use - and those preferences vary wildly. Some also promote products from sponsors or their own shops.

But if you're one of those who only react when you see a red banner: TICKS CAN KILL. FOR REAL. Not years later. Sometimes in a matter of days.

we’ll explain why we chose a rooftop tent and what other options we considered. What are the biggest advantages and disadvantages of this setup? And what would we choose today instead of a rooftop tent?

Your dog’s life may depend on what you do - and how quickly you do it. That’s why we strongly recommend dog first aid training.​

When planning long journeys, it’s tempting to think that driving faster will get us to our destination much quicker. In practice, the time savings are often smaller than we expect while fuel consumption increases sharply.

Everything changes if you like winter hikes. Above the line of dwarf pines, the mountain turns into rock and stone, and the wind begins. Finding the right path becomes less obvious. The wind can slow you down, bury the trail, and push temperatures dangerously low.

The couch example would work better like this: I calmly think: “Get off the couch.” I say: “Get off the couch.” (because that’s what I want) I turn away from the couch, showing with my body the direction Mrok can go. When all of that lines up, Mrok gets off the couch - every time.

And if someone asked what else we did? Well… we rode bicycles in the Indian Ocean 😊

With the right tires, you might stop before a pedestrian. With worse tires, you could still be braking while already across the crosswalk - and that could end tragically.

When Mrok came into our lives, or actually, even before he moved in, once we knew he would, it was clear he’d be joining us on our bike trips. To make that possible, we needed a good trailer designed for dogs. And so began our search.

and then came Agnieszka’s calm voice: “It’s okay. They’re just discussing the stick.”

We love the Bieszczady for their space - and for the walks, in all conditions. In summer, when we greet the rising sun on the trail. In autumn, when colors flood the mountains and no photo could ever do it justice. But also in winter - especially then. When it’s hard to even get here. That’s when the mountains feel like they’re truly ours.

He falls toward the path, and his rear leg gets stuck in a narrow crevice. He ends up dangling awkwardly, supported only by the trapped leg. You hear a loud, painful yelp. The dog struggles, pulls his leg free - and collapses onto the trail, whining in pain.

There’s no need to stop in places like this. They set the pace themselves, so each person can feel them in their own way. Whether you paddle a kayak, practice yoga, run through the forest, or observe it from a bike - those are just forms. Each one lets you tune into where you are.

An execution cave, exploration, everyday life - off - track China Not ruins, not museums, not attractions. I wanted a place that lives by its own rhythm. A place of taste, of silence, of rare but meaningful conversations. I wanted China that smells of earth and steam rising from a bowl. The kind of China they don’t show to tourists.

It’s all here, on one island. So close to home, and yet it feels like the end of the world—in the best possible way.