I picked my daughter up at a friend’s house the other day, and noticed a painfully familiar scenario involving the family dog. Hudson* is a small mixed breed cutie, adopted as an adult from a shelter several years ago. He lives with his young, active family of mom, dad and several school age children, and is treated with love and respect. Hudson is included in family outings, has the run of the house, sleeps on the best dog beds money can buy, goes hiking regularly and lives the life of a cherished suburban dog. The only problem is that Hudson doesn’t seem particularly comfortable with the life he leads.
Since I was focused on extricating my daughter from the “best play date ever”, I wasn’t paying close attention to the dog. What prompted my sudden shift from daughter to dog was not because of anything the dog did, but because of the way the mother was acting.
The three girls sat around the kitchen table eating their snacks, and the mother didn’t take her eyes off Hudson, who had positioned himself under the table. “He didn’t bite you?” asked the mother, as one of the girls bent down to retrieve a dropped cracker. Another girl dropped another piece of food, and the question was asked again. The mother finally led the little dog gently to his bed in the middle of the kitchen, where he huddled, tense and wary. One of the girls jumped up from the table, went up to Hudson, (who was still in his bed) and started petting him on top of the head before skipping off to join her friends. Later, the girls’ pounding through the house prompted fits of barking and chasing, and the constantly opening and closing entrance door could not be adequately defended unless Hudson was standing, quivering, at the threshold. Hudson clearly didn’t enjoy the extra noise and activity, but was given no choice but to endure the chaos.
I noticed a pattern emerge as the playdate came to a close. If the dog was barking or in close proximity to one of the children, the mother started paying close attention to the interaction, but was not proactive in managing either the dog or the children. She had a “let’s wait and see what happens approach” that fortunately worked out (at least for the girls on this particular play date).
I’m sharing this story because I can completely relate to the mother’s quandary and sympathize wholeheartedly with poor Hudson. Similar scenarios have even played out in my own house, which is the main reason for my passion and commitment to shy, fearful and reactive dogs.
It’s very, very hard to come to terms with the fact that your dog may not fit neatly into the idyllic vision of family harmony that you have in your head. It’s also easier to deny or doubt what you’re seeing unfold before your eyes. Letting go of your dream is hard and you don’t know how to fix what may (or may not) be a problem. You hope fervently that with enough time and exposure, your dog will relax and enjoy the fabulous life you’ve provided for him, but subconsciously, you’re dreading the day that your unspoken apprehension becomes reality.
If you feel uncomfortable or worried for your dog, or for the safety of those around your dog, please don’t wait. The faster you can act on your concerns by being honest about your fears, calling a professional trainer and managing the situations that your dog finds challenging, the faster your dog can relax and enjoy the fabulous, NEW life you will provide for him.
*Names and identifying details have been changed.
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