Sammy was my first dog, an itty-bitty sheltie I rescued off of Craigslist. At six years old, he’d already had three homes and spent time in at least one shelter. At 23 years old, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I made a lot of mistakes with Sammy, and I’m here to tell you what they are.
Anxiety
Sammy was so anxious. He was scared of guitars, laundry, grocery bags, dryer vents, fire, newspapers, trash bags, fireworks, clapping, and balloons. But most of all, he was scared of being alone. When I left for work, he’d bark with such fury, hitting my legs with both paws as he bounced around the room. As I put him in the bathroom, where he spent his time while I was gone, he’d bark and growl at me, and then scratch at the door as I left. He suffered so much with this separation anxiety, and I had no idea what to do about it...so I did nothing.
Barking
It took me three years to realize I needed to stop yelling at Sammy for barking. I finally realized I could teach him to come to me when he heard a barking trigger. When I scratched his head, he forgot about barking altogether. It was so effective! For him, myself, and my neighbors, I wish I’d figured that out sooner.
Potty Issues
I once borrowed a black light from a friend because I suspected Sam had peed somewhere...and discovered that he peed on the floor by every corner in my living room: the corner of my bookshelf, my couch, my coffee table, even my banjo. The dog was potty trained! I took him out 3 to 4 times a day! The vet cleared him medically! Worst of all, I never saw him pee.
From that point forward, he was always in my line of sight in the living room, and if we went to other people’s houses, he was diapered. Why didn’t I just retrain him to pee outside? I couldn’t tell you. It honestly never occurred to me.
Grooming
Sammy haaaaaaated grooming. Every step was torture. My solution? Do it as little as possible, and white-knuckle through it. Now that no-fear vet practices are on the scene, I’ve learned a lot about desensitizing a dog to grooming. I wish I could’ve done it with Sam so he didn’t suffer through it.
Enrichment
When my wife and I started dating, one of the first things she did was start showering Sam and Brie with toys and treats. She made them birthday cakes and bought them Christmas gifts. I thought it was silly. “They’re dogs,” I said. “They don’t know it’s their birthday. They have one toy, and they never even play with it.”
My wife, who was determined to be the best step-dog-mom ever, replied, “A new toy is more interesting.”
I’d never thought about interesting in reference to my pups before. I didn’t think about how, as working dogs, they needed challenges and stimulation. I didn’t think about their perspective, never asked, “What is it like for Brie when...” I’m thankful to my wife for bringing that shift to my life because the rest of Sammy and Brie’s lives were measurably better for it, and I became a better dog owner.
But I wish I’d known it sooner.
There’s more – lots more. So many things I wish I’d learned or known or considered or done. It’s hard to acknowledge these things, and a part of me fears that as you read this, you’ll think, “How could she not have known? What a bad dog owner!”
I think that fear is my own judgment of myself.
The thing is, it’s unfair to judge our historical selves with the knowledge and information we have now. Most of the time, we’re doing the best we can with the information and resources available to us. Once we know more, we can and should pivot with that new information.
And so I have. Pants has loads of enriching toys and games. We make grooming fun and rewarding. We trained nervous peeing out of her, and now we’re working on anxious barking. Everything is a fun training opportunity rather than a difficult behavior to white knuckle through.
What are things in your past that you regret? Things you wish you’d known or handled differently?
Are you beating yourself up for not knowing what you couldn’t have known?
The thing is, I absolutely did make mistakes with Sam. I’m not here to make excuses. I still wish I’d done things differently. But rather than beating myself up for a past I can’t change, I’m taking the lesson and applying it to my present.
This is how we turn mistakes into growth rather than shame and self-blame.
In Good Inside, Dr. Becky Kennedy repeatedly says, “It’s never too late.” A lot of parents learn new parenting tools and immediately feel terrible about the way they were parenting before. “I wish I’d known this,” they often say. They fear they’ve damaged their child. But Dr. Becky’s constant refrain is: “It’s never too late.”
Start the change now. Make the amends with yourself and others. Chart a path forward. And always keep learning.
“Shoulda, coulda” is every parents mantra! We learn best thru trying and fixing. Look how much Pants benefited from the knowledge you gained by raising Sammie!
This hits very close to home for me. I have always adopted my dogs from rescues or shelters and I have fostered many. I have never had a dog I couldn't handle. Until now. Tasha is a Yorkie mix that lived her first 2 1/2 years in poor conditions in a house with 25 other dogs; a breeder/hoarder situation. She had little to no socialization.
When we first adopted her, she was very fearful, but she gradually came out of her shell and was very loving with me. Six months later she started nipping people that came into our home. We've had her 2 1/2 years now and she has had multiple level 2 bites and 2 level 3's. I've tried everything from a trainer to meds to physically restraining her to lots and lots of treats. The level 3 bites happened when I was not at home and my husband, who has Parkinson's and dementia, couldn't handle her.
So we made the gut-wrenching decision to have her PTS next week. I feel like a failure, but i know in my heart I've done everything in my power. She is just too damaged. Still, I keep playing the shoulda, woulda, coulda. Keep me in your thoughts next week and thanks for reading of you got this far. ❤️😥