Balance: Being respectful of others without “living in fear”
Balance: Being respectful of others without “living in fear”
Every time I take my dog out into the world, there’s a chance our presence will make someone uncomfortable. Even if she’s completely under control. Even if we go out of our way to be respectful. We never know who might be afraid of dogs—who might have had a traumatic experience, been bitten, watched a loved one get hurt—and we can’t take responsibility for everyone’s mental state.
Does that mean we should stay home 24/7? Should we throw our hands up and say we can’t win anyway, we might as well give up trying? Someone’s going to be unhappy regardless… so why put in the effort if it’s all a waste?
Neither of those extremes are helpful, I think.
Yes, it’s impossible to make sure our dogs never ever ever negatively impact someone else’s day. We will crumble if we put that kind of pressure on our shoulders. But we can still take tons of reasonable, relatively low-effort steps to mitigate any potential harm—and those actions are so worth it.
If you’ve followed us for any length of time, you know this kind of nuance is one of my greatest passions. So here’s another post about balance: this time how I strike caring about the people around me without “living in fear” of their preferences, emotions, and experiences.
First things first: Most of life isn’t mutually exclusive
The world is full of false dichotomies… especially in the dog training space.
But most of them are just that: false.
There is no binary distinction between “caring so much about the people around us that we cripple our own joy” and “being completely ignorant to our potential impact”. We can have both! We can weigh risks, prioritize thoughtfully, and have an absolute blast with our dogs without outright disrespecting anyone else.
One unproductive extreme: Living in fear of how other people feel
This is a dangerous rabbit hole to go down (and one I’m all all too familiar with as a “recovering people pleaser”).
If I lived my life in constant fear of making someone else slightly uncomfortable, I’d never write or say or do pretty much anything. I’d definitely never bring Scout anywhere. And I think I’d be completely, utterly miserable—constantly worrying if I had messed up, always trying to jump through hoops for other people’s enjoyment, bending over backwards with no regard for my own happiness.
The other unproductive extreme: Not caring about our impact at all
But this is also a dangerous rabbit hole to go down.
The dog owners who don’t consider other people’s experiences at all are often the ones who ruin it for the rest of us—getting pets banned from certain locations entirely, starting physical altercations, damaging sensitive wildlife environments, contributing to a range of other safety concerns.
(As the owner of a dog who developed severe fear reactivity after being attacked on a walk… this hits hard.)
Finding the best of both worlds
So what does a healthy balance look like? How do we avoid the rabbit holes and stand proudly on solid ground?
For me, it’s about remembering what I can and can’t control.
I can control:
My own actions and whether my dog does things that might easily trigger someone to have a bad time in a shared public space.
Most people aren’t happy about an unfamiliar dog jumping on them. It’s usually not fun to be barked at when we’re minding our own business. Seeing off-leash dogs in leash-required areas can be frightening. Being actually approached without permission is even worse.
The examples are endless (and usually pretty obvious, if we spend a bit of time considering that not everyone around is is automatically a crazed dog lover).
I cannot control:
Someone else’s past experiences and their current perceptions. At a certain point, I have to set my own standards for Scout’s behavior in public—what is and isn’t acceptable based on my personal value framework—and operate from there.
If she’s lying quietly next to our table at a brewery? Okay, yes, someone might still be unhappy to see her there. But as long as she isn’t blocking a walkway or causing a disruption, I’m not going to lose sleep over it, because a relaxed dog in a pet-friendly space is well within the realm of reasonable expectation.
If she’s running willy nilly off leash in a leash-required park, though? If she’s trying to steal food off of a stranger’s plate? If she’s barking like mad while the families around us are just trying to talk over their appetizers after a long day of work? That’s something very different.
Small steps to be a respectful dog owner
I think there are many little things I can do that both:
Are barely an inconvenience to me, so easy to implement
Can drastically improve someone else’s experience in a shared public space.
Just because a spot is dog friendly doesn’t mean it should be a “dog free for all” or that everyone who enters it has consented to being approached.
Here are some of the actions I take to try to maximize everyone’s enjoyment and comfort when I’m in public with Scout!
