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by Ellen Wulfhorst, CAMBRIDGE, New York, (Reuters) Standing in a field at the end of a remote mountain road in northern New York, a bearded man in a baseball cap waves his arms and claps his hands at a rambunctious German shepherd puppy.

To an unknowing eye, he's training the dog in the basics of sitting and staying.

But he might say he is searching for God.

The man is Brother Christopher, a member of the tiny New Skete monastery that, as part of its contemplative, spiritual life, breeds German shepherds and trains unruly dogs.

What started as a cottage industry to help pay the bills has become big business, and the monks have earned a nationwide reputation selling training videos and books.

Their books "How to Be Your Dog's Best Friend" and "The Art of Raising a Puppy" have sold about 500,000 copies each, according to publisher Little, Brown and Co. "How to Be Your Dog's Best Friend" was recently re-released and updated.

Dog lovers seeking the popular New Skete puppies face a $1,500 price tag and a waiting list as long as three years, while the wait for the training course is up to three months.

But at heart, the breeding and training is God's work, Brother Christopher said at the quiet monastery with its onion-domed, hand-built chapel, part of the Orthodox Catholic Church in America.

"I see my work with dogs as intimately connected with my own life here at the monastery, as a facet of my own spirituality, my own search for God," said the monk, who joined the monastery 22 years ago at the age of 26.

Each of the nine monks at the tiny retreat cares for at least one dog that is used in the breeding programme. The monastery breeds roughly 20 to 30 puppies a year.

Brother Christopher runs the month-long training programme, open to dogs whose owners are willing to pay the $1,000 fee.

The monks' approach to training revolves around the relationship between owner and dog, respect and communication, particularly through eye contact, praise and even massage.

If God works in mysterious ways, the monks' interest in dogs may be one of them.

Founded in 1966, the monastery planned to be self-sufficient. Farming was the monks' first effort but proved too difficult on the hardscrabble land where they live. But one monk had a dog, a German shepherd whom the other monks adored. When the dog died, they got another one. They learned about dog breeding, and the programme took on a life of its own.

"The brothers experienced the benefits of pets," said Brother Christopher. "Dogs take you out of yourself and, in an environment where brothers are living with each other and are celibate monks, having that type of contact was very healthy."

Word of the dog training programme spread like wildfire. Now, quipped Brother Peter, the monks are so overwhelmed with demand that they're hoping people will prefer to buy their books than wait for the next litter of puppies. Their training process uses a lot of distractions, such as running in circles around the dog as it learns to sit or stay, so the animal will make mistakes that can be corrected.

One recent wintry day, Brother Christopher patiently tried his techniques on Tina, a happy-go-lucky, six-month-old Golden Retriever skilled, he said, at dragging her hapless owner down the pavement.

As instructed, Tina willingly lay down while the monk waved his arms, ran around and otherwise acted silly to tempt her to jump up.

Her tail thumping, Tina squirmed, craned her neck and finally could take it no longer. She leaped up to play and forgot all about the order to stay. It was exactly the reaction Brother Christopher wanted. "Dogs learn by making mistakes," he said, lavishing her with praise as she lay down and tried again.

The spiritual side to the training programme is palpable. The monks are quiet and calm. So, for the most part, are the dogs.

"We're monks first, and our life is pretty much dedicated to a search for God and that affects how we deal with the dogs and how we deal with the people who bring their dogs to us," Brother Christopher said.

So calm are the dogs at New Skete, in fact, that they used to attend church services at the monastery with the monks and townspeople from nearby Cambridge, a tiny rural crossroads less than two miles (3.2 km) from the Vermont state border.

But that practice had to come to an end, said Brother Marc, one of the monastery's founding monks. "They snored," he said.

Not that the dogs at New Skete are complete angels.

As the monks' constant companions, the dogs lay patiently around the kitchen while the brothers cook a midday meal. But even the best-trained dogs scoot along the floor to visit one another or sneak across the room to lay a silky head in a visitor's lap. Brother Christopher smiled as his dog did exactly as he was not told.

"We wrote the book, but we're suckers. They've got us wrapped around their paws," he said. "With our own dogs, this is not West Point at all."

The purpose of the training, the monks say, is that it allows dog and owner to spend more time together. "It makes the dog easier to live with," Brother Christopher said. "It allows the owner to be able to include the dog in many different levels of their life...Instead of the dog having a lot of time alone, they're able to be with their owners."

What makes New Skete training different, he said, is closely entwined with the spiritual life at the monastery.

"The dog is a companion. The dog is a social creature. So I take it with a real sense of responsibility, respect and reverence," the monk said. "The dog is happier so the owners will be happier.

"Understanding that allows me to see the training process in that perspective. It becomes a service to people that I know affects the quality of their life, and that gives me very real satisfaction as a monk.

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