I remember sitting on the toilet crying, embarrassed that I couldn’t handle this fucking dog. She would not stop biting me or scratching me. She could not listen. She was a cute but evil alien from hell. Every single second of every single day, she needed to be man-handled or chaperoned; there was no time to wee, no time to make myself food and absolutely no cute puppy time. Actually, that’s a lie; there was cute puppy time, but only when she was asleep and though puppies are meant to sleep 16 hours out of every 24, Pea was – of course – unable to regulate herself enough to sleep. We had to teach her how to sleep. We’d show her where to go, how to lie down, make her wait a number of seconds and then treat her for staying still. Rinse and repeat until she got tired enough to nod off. Then we’d creep out the room. This process followed a witching hour of hell where she would became so overtired and boisterous that she was vicious. We’re talking full on toddler meltdown except this is an animal that can run fast and bite; she would clamp her jaws down onto your ankle, growl continuously and not let go. I bled a fair amount during this period.
While I was trying to enjoy the aforementioned moment of silence in the bathroom, Pea was continuously barking in the living room. The night before, she had thrown herself at the bedroom door when we tried to go to bed, so now we were in the process of trying to crate train her which was going terribly. I decided to lie in a makeshift bed next to the crate to make it easier on her, but she would scream and cry as we introduced her to the crate. So we were now back to basics: slowly acclimatising her to it each night over a period of hours until she eventually passed out. Every night she woke up at 4 or 5am and we’d have to coax her back to sleep for an hour. I was in the middle of writing my second book, under so much pressure, and had got nothing done. I was exhausted. It was 6.30am in the morning, and I had been up 2 hours. I was already crying.
I wiped my tears and opened the bathroom door, stepped into the hallway and felt my bare foot land in a small, warm puddle. It shot forward and my weight went from under me leaving me crumpled in a pile on the floor, covered in dog piss and screaming a curse word. Through the shock, I suddenly became aware of manic scratching sounds to my left, I looked up and was met with the tilted image of the Pea running at my head. She launched at my hair, grabbed a mouthful and started pulling with all her might. I wanted to fucking scream. Instead I scooped her up, firmly told her “no!”, and slowly started extracting my hair from her mouth.
A week later, Pea would head to residential training with the same team who train both the Met police dogs and strays who are unable to be touched without being bitten. Her trainer would see her, think she was harmless and decide to use her as a demo for the other dogs. Before he began the demo Pea got bored and sank her teeth into the back of his calf.
”is it me or is she a nightmare?” I said to Wayne, her trainer down the phone.
”oh yeah she’s a fucking doughnut” he replied “she’s absolutely bonkers. But she’s not aggressive. She’s just needs some manners.”
We continued to train Pea every second of every day for about 6 months. Every interaction was a lesson. From impulse control, to place bed, crate training, lead training, “leave it” and grooming training. She wasn’t allowed with other dogs unless both dogs were being handled and trained, because she would jump all over them, one time she literally body-slammed one. So puppy classes weren’t possible and sitters weren’t either. It felt like a full-time job, and like I had her in bootcamp. At one point I went on Instagram live to vent about it and ended up bursting into tears because I felt like I was failing; this puppy didn’t seem to like me, I didn’t like it, and I didn’t seem to be able to meet the challenge of being a dog owner. I was convinced she was going to be a problem dog for the next 15 years. “What have we done?” I kept thinking, before immediately heading to the Reddit /PuppyBlues forum and reading it obsessively.
This week, Pea turned three. She now lives in Melbourne, having moved here when she was one and she is no longer the batshit alien that she was at one month old. It took until she was one for her to properly learn manners, and until she was two for her to really calm down, but now I have the dog of my dreams. The nightmare was worth it, and as I quietly recounted to her last night, as she lay on her back snoring like a tiny pig in my arms as we fell asleep, here are the five things Pea has taught me.
✷ consistency is everything and progress isn’t always visible: when I was learning how to train Pea, I asked “how often a day should we train her?” her trainer replied “unfortunately every single interaction with her is training. so, every second of every day you have to be on, unless you’re okay with her picking up bad habits.” I gulped, and then decided I had no choice but to commit to the challenge. There were a million and one moments where I genuinely believed what I was doing was not working, simply because I couldn’t see the change in her yet. So much felt futile. The process of training her was one of the biggest lessons I have ever learnt in being consistent even when you can’t see results, and in keeping hope and faith that you are on the right track when things feel bleak. Sometimes when I want to give up on something I remember how it felt and remind myself that consistency will really get you where you want to go as long as you play the long game.
✷ boundaries are important: without boundaries, Pea wouldn’t be the dog she is today. In terms of personality she is incredibly headstrong and very confident, and so she needed to be controlled to a certain extent. The boundaries we set for her gave her a job, a role, and a purpose to put her energy and mind to. Boundaries in my life are different, but it’s interesting that while I’d credit them for Pea’s development and advocate for them with children, giving myself boundaries seem silly. Why? For me it could be the same: healthy parameters by which to move through my relationships and world can only be a good thing, and will allow me to grow into a healthier, more balanced person. Just like I trained her, I also have to train myself to hold those boundaries and that takes repetition, incentives and patience.
✷ love is shown just as meaningfully without words: Pea can’t speak. Actually, hang on that’s unfair. Pea can speak, but we don’t speak the same language; she does have full conversations with herself in the mirror, or with something on the kitchen side that she’d quite like to be on the floor, but no, she can’t speak to me in English. She can’t tell me how she feels or what she needs, and she can’t tell me that she feels safe or comfortable with me. But she does tell me every and all day in the way she moves, looks at me, the choices she makes. Once, when Jordy was in unbearable pain after slicing through his thumb tendon with a knife (a fun story for another time), he began to sweat and almost pass out. Pea ran from the other side of the room, onto his lap and began licking him. Once, when I was crying she jumped up and licked my tears off my face. Some mornings, when it feels hard to get out of bed. She pushed her body up against me and lies with me until 1pm. She gives me so much affection without words and it has made me realise how much loyalty, affection and love can be demonstrated without saying a word.
✷ being present is a genuine gift: part of training Pea and being successful at it was about getting inside her head; what is she thinking of doing now? What does she want? Why is she frustrated? What did that bark mean? etc. An offshoot is that I now find myself seeing the world through her eyes. Pea is always with me, she’s like my little mascot (I found out recently that “pets” in Spanish is “mascotas” and I nearly died) and so day-to-day life is built around her. I am always thinking about her perspective. I also walk through the park in silence more than I ever did. We sit in the grass together just to enjoy the sun because she loves it. She sees a good stick and wants to play with it, so I hold it for her. She digs holes in the sand at the beach so I do too. She losing her fucking mind at the sea and suddenly I find myself more happy than I’ve ever been at the beach. I am forced to interact with nature in a way I lost, and I’m forced to notice the little joys, too. If I’m having a shitty morning, watching her lose her cool at a frisbee and run across the park with it in her mouth lifts my spirits. And I’m thinking of nothing else whilst it’s happening. Her small, happy, curious little world becomes my view of the world just for a moment, many times a day, and I’m forced to see how good stuff really can be when you’re present and thinking about nothing else.
✷ teamwork is vital, ego is not: me and my partner would have different parenting styles, and that’s pretty understandable given we are different people (shock horror) who grew up in different countries and cultures. When we were training Pea we had to have some sticky conversations about getting on the same page, and of course there were disagreements and arguments. A dog doesn’t learn if one party is doing something differently to the other, because the messages are confusing, so regardless of our opinions, we had to put our ego aside and decided that whoever informed those choices (either because they were at home more, or because they had more experience) was the leader and the other party had to follow through with the same effort and actions. We also had to divide responsibilities; though I work from home more, I felt it was unfair for me to have to care for Pea while I’m at home as well as walk her more. That felt like parenting inequality lite™️ and even though our work dynamics coerced us into it, I wasn’t allowing that tone to be set, so conversations were had (and pie charts drawn) about dividing up her care equally. That gave us an opportunity to practice what this actually looks like.
If you have a dog, or a pet, I’d love to know what you’ve learnt from them. Share away in the comments below.
G (and P) x
That puppy subreddit always made me feel better when I was in the depth of puppy life! Biggest things weve learned is that progress isn't linear! Don't get too bogged down on the negatives and always make time to celebrate the positives ♥️.
Love the way the unbridled joy of animals can be so grounding and reminds us to also find joy in the small things 🫶🏼