When Sharla set out to get a dog, she assumed he would lie beside her on the couch, run along the beach, sit underneath an outdoor table at Starbucks while she worked, and hop into the car for a ride to the dog park. This is what we see on TV, right? We’re surrounded by images of face-licking, tail-wagging, running off into the distance to catch a ball off-leash dogs. I call it the “Hallmark Dog Syndrome” and liken it to body shaming toward humans — only the ideal versions are popularized.
Like many of us who have never faced this unique challenge, Sharla had no idea that anything other than the “Hallmark” demeanor existed before she got Jake.
Jake is a complicated dog. He is constantly on alert and scanning his environment. He will lunge and growl when he passes other dogs on his walk. Sharla cannot have friends come to the house as he feels threatened when strangers are in his home — and she can’t simply leave him in a room or put him in a crate because he will injure himself and destroy the room trying to get out. He has terrible separation anxiety and does not stop barking when she leaves, resulting in numerous complaints from her townhome community association. Since having Jake, she has been unable to go away because there is no one she trusts to walk him, and he wouldn’t do well in a boarding situation. She is at a stage in her life where she is looking to start a relationship but is afraid to have dates come into her home, and the thought of introducing someone new into Jake’s life is daunting.
Sharla has been with Jake for a few years now, and his behavior has improved dramatically from where he started. She does everything she can to make him as comfortable as possible, including depleting her savings to pay for the various behaviorists they’ve worked with. She ‘gets’ him, does her best to keep him away from triggers, and is an incredibly devoted dog mom. But she’s really tired.
She always thought having a dog would enrich her life, not limit it, and a profound sense of grief comes with this realization.
“... While I know he shows his love in other ways, I have a really hard time accepting that I don’t have any of the things I only wanted from a dog. And it’s not just that — not only does he not enhance my life, but he makes it really hard. I feel like I exist to be his caretaker, and as a dog mom, that’s my responsibility — I get it — but it’s miserable. I see other people with the same dog breed, and they’re everything I thought I would have. I feel so guilty for wishing Jake was different.”
There are people like Sharla who stay the course with Jake. It’s not what she signed up for, but she committed to him, so she persists. There are many Jake’s out there, each with their quirks and loving owners who care for them. Not everyone can make this situation work. I say that without judgment — we all have our physical, emotional, lifestyle, and financial limitations. And sadly, some pets can’t be rehabilitated, resulting in behavioral euthanasia — that’s not the level of behavioral challenge I am referring to here, but it is still a grieveable loss that should be acknowledged.
I had my own “Jake” (Millie) for five years. Like Sharla, I gave her everything I had and then some, but I was missing the emotionally reciprocal piece of the relationship. It wasn’t that she wasn’t affectionate with me, because she was, but my life was heavy during the time we were together. At home, she was a loving dog, but in the world, the challenges we faced outweighed the positives I got out of the relationship. I was constantly on edge, anticipating the next potential catastrophe and doing everything I could to prevent it — a helicopter mom to the nth degree.
I spent my first year with Millie in therapy, processing the grief I felt around our complicated relationship. I wanted so badly to be able to fall in love with her the way I loved my first dog. During that first year, I also made the decision to discontinue infertility treatment. After having a dog almost break me, I started to doubt my emotional stability in raising a human.
Well-intentioned strangers would give me unsolicited platitudes like“You were meant to find each other,” which made me feel misunderstood — with a vengeance. It’s like when you’re grieving, and you’re told your loved one is in a better place. I can be a people pleaser, so as much as I wish I could say I responded from an authentic place instead of nodding and agreeing, I won’t lie. I’m braver in writing than in real life. Plus, there’s the shame thing around not being obsessed with your dog.
And this is exactly why we need to talk about it.
A strained connection with your pet can be associated with a lot of stigma, and can feel isolating. Those who haven’t been in this type of relationship may not get it. And that’s ok — your people are out there. There are support groups for Fearful Dog Owners, behaviorists/trainers, certified fear-free vets, free YouTube videos, and many other resources available once you realize there is a community for this. Many resources are listed on Pet Therapy Notes.
While it may never be what you thought you were getting, your relationship has the potential to improve. There can be so much joy in seeing a “Jake” grow. You’ll celebrate the small wins, like the first time your fearful dog approaches a stranger or when your skittish cat slowly curls up beside you on the couch. You focus on what they can do. Millie excelled in dog agility, so we enrolled in classes. It was an activity that strengthened our bond and boosted her confidence. She enjoyed hiking, so we accommodated her by hiking in more remote areas where she wouldn't encounter as many dogs or scary people.
From that relationship, I learned that you can love someone, AND it can still be hard. These feelings are allowed to co-exisit. I also learned that no relationship with a dog or human can ever be replicated and that I should focus on the dog in front of me, not the dog I fantasized about having. Once I surrendered and accepted the reality in front of me instead of fighting so hard to change it, my temperament in reaction to hers became a little lighter. I never fell madly I in love with Millie, but I loved her with everything I had.
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