People aren't always thinking what you think they're thinking

I'm trying to give less of a sh*t. But as an introvert who likes to move quietly and unobtrusively through the world, having a reactive dog has been… an adjustment.

See Dealing with the embarrassment.

I imagine everyone judging me and George when he has a reaction. Judging me for not training him, not socialising him properly, not caring for him properly.

It can be tough.

They don't see the genetics and past experiences we’re dealing with, or the hours and hours and thousands of dollars I pour into trying to help George feel safe. Not to mention the ways I’ve changed my whole life—the worry, the stress, the sleepless nights.

It shouldn't matter what a stranger thinks. But sometimes it hits harder than it should.

I'm trying to reframe from my constant apologising in the early days to something simpler like, “He’s got anxiety, we’re working on it,” if anything needs to be said at all.

My priority is George, so I don’t often have the time or space to apologise even if I wanted to.

But I think sometimes I imagine people are thinking worse of me/us than they actually are.

As my mum pointed out when they visited and I was fretting about George barking and lunging outside daycare: “It was only a few seconds. They probably forgot about it already.”

That’s not to say we don’t get judgement—we do. I’ve had my fair share of eye rolls, stares, and “train your dog”s.

But often, people are pretty understanding.

I’ve only had one bad experience with another dog owner at daycare drop-off. I’ve had countless experiences where the owners have been kind and understanding.

Of course, I remember the bad one most clearly.

A recent experience really brought home to me that people aren’t always thinking what you assume they’re thinking.

I fret about getting in and out of our shared pathway—running the neighbour gauntlet.

George is more reactive around the home and has often barked and lunged at the neighbours.

In my head, they hate us. We’re terrible neighbours. They think George is aggressive, dangerous, out of control—etc, etc.

Then one day I bumped into the neighbour, and he casually mentioned he had some dog toys for George.

I was so touched—and it really threw me. Acts of compassion for dogs with big feelings absolutely make my day.

Two weeks later, a bag appeared on my doorstep with more dog toys. George has loved every single one, and there were even enough to donate some to his friend.

It was so kind, and it made me realise that they’re probably not thinking what I thought they were thinking.

They do know how hard we’re trying.

So whilst reactive dog owners do need to brace ourselves against the judgement, it’s also worth remembering that people aren’t always thinking the worst. And if they are, they’re not the ones who matter.