Shy and Fearful Dogs Are A Lot Like My Ankles

For the sake of this post, I will divulge something I have never before admitted in public: I wish I had daintier ankles. I used to look with envy at all the thin, elegant ankles out in there in the world, and I sighed with regret when ankle length pants went from high fashion to main street.

To add to the angst, I am tall, so finding pants that didn’t look like I got caught in a flood has been challenging, to say the least. If you’ve stuck with me this far, you’re probably wondering why I’m laying my insecurities bare to the world. The answer always goes back to the dogs.

A fair number of us got our dogs with high hopes and expectations. “She’ll be my agility dog.” “He’ll hike in the woods with me.” “We’ll visit hospitals together.”

What we couldn’t know, at the very beginning of our relationship, was whether our hopes and dreams meshed with the emerging personality and expectations of the dog we chose. We may have been taken completely by surprise by our dog’s puzzling or scary or heartbreaking behaviors. Maybe we saw hints before we adopted our dog from the shelter, caught glimpses when the breeder allowed us to observe the litter, or hid behind denial the first time our dog cringed away from a stranger’s touch.

Our home life changed to accommodate our fearful dog and our outings became carefully orchestrated. We may have even caught ourselves secretly wishing we had an “easier” dog, or looking with envy at a dog walking quietly by his person’s side (while off leash, no less).

Let’s go back to my ankles for a moment.

It took a while, but I finally came to realize a few things about them: my ankles were given to me, and me alone. I can’t change them, period. They serve me very well in the mobility department, flexing and contracting ten thousand times a day. Nobody else is losing sleep over the diameter of my ankles. If I work on toning other parts of my legs, my ankles look proportional AND I feel good about doing something proactive to change.

Shy and fearful dogs are a lot like my ankles (yes, I mean to be humorous!). We are entitled to indulge in a little envy now and then…watching well managed playgroups of social dogs, walking by well behaved dogs on the street, being greeted politely by the resident dog when visiting friends.

But once we acknowledge that little twinge, we need to refocus on who and what is in front of us: My dog was chosen by me, for me alone.

I cannot completely change my dog’s personality, but I can teach her behaviors that ease her fear and give her security. When I separate the fear from the rest of my dog’s personality, she is a great dog: she is a good companion, makes me smile and is a valuable part of the family.

Nobody else is losing sleep over my dog barking at another dog or hiding in the crate. With work, I can help my dog feel more comfortable and at ease in situations that may have scared her in the past. I can feel good that I’m making the difference in the life of another being.

I’ve decided that worrying about my ankles is kind of ridiculous. Since ankle length pants are now a wardrobe staple, you can look for me (and my ankles) in all the latest fashions, while walking beside my ExtraOrdinary Dog.