We’re all just doing our best. Isn’t that enough?
The other morning while I was out walking with Kaslo, I came across another person walking their dog. Their dog became agitated at the sight of Kaslo - growling, fixating on him and attempting to lunge - and their guardian responded by scolding the dog and (I’m assuming) trying to “stop” their reactive behavior.
Commands were given (and ignored), and repeated in an increasingly menacing tone of voice, the leash was tightened to force the dog to all but walking on top of the person’s own feet. As we passed one another I heard the man mutter through gritted teeth “Why do you have to act like such a jerk?”
My impulse was to focus on all of the negatives of this situation; what I thought this person was doing wrong, or how I thought they could have handled the situation differently.
But, here’s the thing. I used to be this person.
I used to be the one groaning and tightening up on the leash in anticipation of my dog’s behavior towards another dog. I used to be overwhelmed with frustration and embarrassment over my dog’s behavior.
I used to be the one muttering “are you kidding me…” under my breath as I pasted a fake smile on my face while I tried to prevent my dog from going full-blown Cujo on the Shih Tzu across the road.
Heck, I even used to be the person who was doing all the wrong things in an attempt to “stop” by dog’s problematic behaviors.
And let me tell you, the judgement and criticism of others did nothing to make me feel better, or behave differently in these situations.
So, instead of judging this person, I practiced empathy. I put myself in that man’s shoes (not hard to do, seeing as I once wore the same pair) and I appreciated how frustrating and embarrassing their dog’s behavior likely was.
I gave that person space, staying on the opposite of the street and redirecting Kaslo so that he wasn’t making the situation harder for this person’s dog by staring.
I focused on what this person was doing right.
This person crossed the road as soon as they caught sight of me (giving their dog space from the trigger).
They moved the dog so it was on the opposite side of their body (providing a physical and visual barrier).
They talked to their dog - sure, it wasn’t in an upbeat voice, nor were they showering their dog with compliments, but they were making an effort to communicate with the dog.
They didn’t reach for punishment. While the leash was tightened, they didn’t use it to jerk up on the dog’s neck to apply a leash correction. They didn’t swat at the dog’s nose or “tsk” them in the neck, a-la-Caesar Milan. While they were visibly frustrated with their dog, they did not use physical force in response to their dog’s behavior.
This person was doing their best with what they knew in that situation. And their best was better than doing nothing at all.
Sometimes our best is all we have.
Sometimes we honestly don’t know better; what we could do differently to yield better results. If we did, we’d probably already be doing it.
Some days we are just trying to make it through.
We’ve all been there.
A little kindness can go a long way in these moments.
“Judgments prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances.”
- Wayne Dyer
Stay awesome,
Vanessa
Vanessa Charbonneau, is the author of Dog Care for Puppies: A guide to Feeding, Playing, Grooming and Behavior. She owns Sit Pretty Behavior & Training, employing force-free training techniques to work with companion dogs and their owners. Charbonneau lives in Prince George, BC with her husband, two daughters, and one dog.
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