Shelby's Reactivity

I adopted Shelby when she was 12 weeks old. Once she acclimated to us, I took her to outdoor cafes, walks around the neighborhood, into the woods, craft stores, pet shops, and even Walmart. We signed up for a series of basic obedience classes at a dog-training school where she got to meet other dogs. My goal was to socialize her well so she’d be welcome anywhere.

Eventually, I took her on real hikes in the forest. I let her explore shallow streams, climb rocks, dig holes, and investigate all the smells at the bottom of the tree trunks. I never had her off leash because she’s part whippet and part southern cur. She has a high chase instinct.

On one hike as she was tentatively navigating a shallow stream, disaster struck. A large Pyrenees mix hurtled towards her growling and snarling. The owner grabbed his dog by the collar and apologized. Shelby emerged physically unharmed, but she was rattled.

And so was I.

Since that day, three different dogs have ambushed her, once on the trail, one time in the park, and once on my own driveway. A loose dog in my neighborhood bit Shelby’s tongue in a fury of snapping and snarling. I’m convinced there’s an epidemic of irresponsible dog owners with snappy snarly dogs.

These attacks changed Shelby. She went from a well-adjusted pup who was happy to greet other dogs to a reactive dog on leash. She’s fine with other hikers. She’s fine with people hobbling along with a cane, babies in strollers, and big backpacks. She thinks little kids are the bomb. But when Shelby sees another dog, she barks at them first before they get any ideas.

I’ve tried every method under the sun to erase or reduce her reactivity towards other dogs. The problem arises only on leash. Off leash in a fenced area, she thinks other dogs are great fun.

I’m trying something new. I realize that when we’re approaching another dog, I get as tense as Shelby. My eyes narrow, my body gets stiff, I pull on the leash. I’m doing all the things I want her to stop doing.

My new strategy is to let myself feel happiness when I see another dog. I notice the cute ears, the wagging tail, the jaunt in the pup’s step, and say it all aloud so that Shelby can hear me. She glances at me sideways wondering what I’m up to, but she always relaxes a little. “If mom says this dog isn’t a danger, just maybe…”

A little progress.

Shelby is the most joyful dog I’ve ever owned. Every day is an adventure. Every walk or hike a joyful one. I don’t want to squash her enthusiasm for life. After all, she’s reacting based on her lived experience and as a human who’s had some lived experience of my own, I can relate.

These days, I combine my “aren’t we so happy to meet you” strategy with hiking in parks and forests where leash laws are enforced or during times when I’m less likely to encounter an overabundance of dogs. It’s not ideal, but it works well enough and we enjoy our walks without the angst.

Some might say I’m avoiding the issue and maybe I am, but we’re enjoying our walks again and that’s good enough for me.