Don’t think of one of Kim Greene’s $125,000 dogs as a pet, even though they’re great for families with young kids. The shepherd mixes she grows on her 167-acre ranch in Livingston, Montana, are more akin to personal bodyguards on call and duty 24 hours a day. Greene’s company, Svalinn, specializes in offering unconventional personal defense with a tail.
She first saw security dogs when living in Kenya with her then-husband—a popular option in the East African capital—and the couple purchased one to help secure the family home. She preferred the protection of a dog to that of a gun or a security system.
“It works when the power goes off, or when there’s no water,” Greene tells Robb Report. “And unlike a firearm, it can’t be used against you.” She thought there was a market for guard dogs like these in the United States, so Svalinn was born.
Its name references Norse mythology when Svalinn served as a protective shield, and she emphasizes that these pups are not being raised to be personal Cujos. Rather than violence, Svalinn’s concentration is on anticipating.
First, she breeds the dogs for temperament, crossing German, Dutch, and Belgian shepherds: the German bloodline predisposes them to be nice family companions. The Belgian lineage imparts a strong work ethic and persistence; the Dutch heritage imparts a little of everything.
“We want to ensure the health of the dog long term—purebreds do not hold up in nature, and we’re not trying to get into the Kennel Club,” she says, “Those three lines in general are all highly workable, protective and eager to please their owner.”
As soon as the puppies are born, they start training at just eight weeks old. It will last for hours and last for more than two years. Svalinn’s program is meant to improve their mental and physical abilities, but it’s the psychological training that makes these guard dogs stand out from the rest.
Greene and her team work to improve a dog’s ability to figure out what other people are thinking. For example, they use their ability to read biological rhythms and hormone spikes that might be linked to anger long before any violence happens. These dogs, of course, can also bite if they need to. Their main job is to help people turn away and avoid danger before it happens.
“Aggression is the least important part. You can train any dog in the universe to bite, if necessary, but that is not the appeal of what we do,” she explains, likening her dogs to a special forces operator. “You know the guy—he’s lovable, and volunteering at church, and has perfect manners, but he also has a very deeply ingrained skillset.”
Clients who buy Svalinn dogs get them personally delivered, which means Greene and her team of about a dozen or so trainers can spend a few days teaching them how to work with the dogs. Greene likens owning a Svalinn shepherd to learning a new operating system on a computer. People who buy them must also agree to take refresher courses every year to keep their skills updated.
There isn’t a typical owner, either. Her dogs live anywhere from the 37th floor of a high rise in the middle of the city to a houseboat. “At the end of the day, technology can fail, but our four-legged security goes with you everywhere—it can sleep in your daughter’s room at night, or travel on your jet with you,” she says.
And what about sleeping on the bed? “In my house, there are no dogs on the bed,” she laughs, “But I’d tell you that about 50 percent of our owners end up doing that. Our dogs are stable, social, and loving, and they want to be with their family all the time.”