Staying at mom’s house last week, I went through old photo albums looking for pictures of Estia, our beloved childhood whippet. Estia joined the family when I was about 6 years old and lived happily with us for thirteen years. While I enjoyed reminiscing about my time with Estia, I couldn’t prevent other memories from resurfacing, namely memories of long and painful years of relentless bullying.
I was bullied by classmates from the ripe age of five until the very end of high school. Often the youngest, shyest and quietest of the class, I was an excellent target for unhappy kids in search of an outlet for their anger. When bullying starts so early, you somehow accept it as normal – you just don’t know any better. I spent years mostly on my own, excluded from birthday parties and school lunches, sometimes dealing with threats and physical violence.
[Side note: I find it fascinating to see that now in their late thirties/early forties, a significant number of these (hopefully) former bullies hold high-ranking and sometimes prestigious positions as police chiefs, judges and prosecutors or C-suite roles in international organizations.]
What does school bullying have to do with educating my dog, you might ask?
Well it turns out that years of not standing up for myself obviously had a long-lasting impact of my mental health and personality development. When I started on the difficult and uneven path to recovery from an eating disorder three years ago, I put self-reflection, emotional regulation and boundaries at the heart of my everyday life. And when Serenity landed in Switzerland in May 2019, I swore I would stand up for her no matter what, and be the best hooman possible.
Easier said than done. From the very beginning, any notion of moderation or cool-headedness flew out the window where her well-being was involved. As an inexperienced, and in all fairness, quite arrogant dog owner, I decided right away that she and I knew everything we needed to know. I wasted almost a full year before starting serious training and education. I excused every wrong behavior by blaming the other dog or owner; that golden retriever was just too skittish, that owner was just irresponsible and so on. Standing up for her felt exhilarating and I was well on my way to become the bully, in the name of protecting my dog.
I even recreated a schoolyard atmosphere by nurturing Serenity’s gang, joining the same two friends everyday twice a day, developing a herd mentality between the three of them and making them the bane of more fearful dogs.
Yet when I eventually took a hard look at the first year together, I realized how detrimental these behaviors were for her – and for me. By blaming others, I was trying to conceal my own lacks of judgement and my all-consuming fear of being perceived as a bad dog owner. I was so terrified that she would feel bullied if I raised my voice or addressed reactive behaviors that I forgot basic education and I projected all my human emotions on her. Serenity was somehow still quite well-adjusted if often fairly reactive.
So I finally got my sh*t together and started educating her properly, both through individual and group classes. We still have ways to go before she wins the Crufts obedience competition but she’s making terrific progress. I still stand up for her if needed but I strive to take ownership and address mistakes when she misbehaves. She can be a perfect moody diva when she gets bored of exercises but she still completes them. Our bond has grown stronger thanks to a healthier and more balanced approach to education.
Bullying is horrifying at every age, not just at school. Standing up for my dog at all costs in any situation was a misguided attempt to stand up for myself, albeit a bit late; I almost became the bully and I still have several apologies to make. Today, I focus on raising a happy and healthy doggo and strengthening boundaries where and when required, both for her and myself. It’s not easy but it’s worth every second.
Lovely Estia
Update: there was no squirrel
Pouting