Last night, it happened. Those completely awkward facebook moments you wish never happened. That video of a friend’s child manhandling a dog, the dog’s desperate attempts to communicate discomfort going completely unnoticed by the humans he trusts to protect him. Blink, lick, blink, look away, stress pant, blink, lick, shake-off.
The video wasn’t unlike this one. Only smaller child, older dog, closer and rougher contact, and more desperate signals.
The reaction is immediate and physical. I want to hurl. I feel heat waves creep out to my extremities. I begin to shake. My fight or flight response is triggered. My blood pressure goes through the roof. It’s the way “normal” people would feel watching a horrific accident happen in slow motion. I know the bite won’t happen, but I’m still waiting for it. It feels inevitable (even though it’s not.)
My husband sits next to me on the couch and advises me to take a few deep breaths, and a few minutes later, begin to shiver as the adrenaline drains out of my body again.
I say something. I HAVE to say something. I’ve done this dance before, followed this train of thought and landed at the compelling rationale: If something ever came of this (it probably won’t), if this sweet dog ever bit this sweet girl, I would HATE myself if I’d stood by silent when saying something could have prevented it. I risk being the asshole, the judgmental parent, the unsolicited advice-giver. I risk being blocked by my friend because it matters that much to me.
I try to do it gently. I say that his daughter is just doing what sweet kids do. And the dog is being SO POLITE in doggy language. It’s just that normal-kid stuff and normal-dog stuff don’t match up. It’s cross-species communication. A lot is lost in translation.
I link to a few resources: Living with Kids and Dogs, Doggone Safe. I mention how they completely changed the way I relate to my dogs and teach my children about dogs in my household. (See, I was just like you a few short years ago! I relate! I really mean no judgment. Please believe me just enough to click a link or two. Just enough to read an article that piques your interest.) And then I end with an apology. I tell him frankly, it’s awkward giving unsolicited advice. I hate to do it. But I would hate myself more if something happened that I could have prevented. I hit send. I am still shivering.
I wait. Seen at 8:54pm. Typing… typing… typing…
The response is expected. No, he’s not our dog. (I’m sure he thinks that’s a mitigating, rather than exacerbating, factor.) His family will not be getting a puppy anytime soon. They will research before ever getting a puppy. (Waaaaay too late.) The dog follows the kids around and is used to lots of kids– she is the eighth grandchild, after all. (I LOVE kids too, but that doesn’t mean I love the face-smushing, neck-strangling or eye-poking they so often do.)
I respond… you need to research it if your kids will be around dogs. Ever. Most bites happen to children who are familiar to the dog, but who are not part of the dog’s family (like this.exact.situation.) What I saw was a pretty classic lead-up. It’s not about Sprocket or Olivia (NOT their names). She’s doing normal, sweet kid stuff and he’s doing normal, social dog stuff. Those two languages just don’t always match up. I gave two short rules, in case he reads nothing else I’ve sent him. These are the two which I learned from that book, and which I think could prevent the lion’s share of bites to small children: 1. Never pet a dog whose mouth is closed, and 2. If you wouldn’t let your kid do this to an infant, don’t let her do it to a dog.
A few hours later, he responded apologetically. He hadn’t intended to offend. And I reciprocated and tried to normalize. I intended no offense. It’s obvious that she’s a sweet kid and he’s a good dog. It’s totally normal to post that video, to want to share what looks, at first glance, cute and innocent. I told him one more time– click the links. And then we said our polite good-byes.
This is only the second time I’ve approached a friend about photos and videos they’ve shared of their own kids and dogs. And I’ve gotta say, both times I was left with an unsettled feeling, unsure of whether they took me seriously, or if I offended them by bringing it up.
I empathize so deeply, so truly. I feel the love he has for his kids. I have it for my own. The innocence with which he shared those sweet videos. The discomfort of being approached about a parenting issue, the sick feeling of considering the merit of the issue. Could she be right? Was my daughter in danger, while I was filming? I might just avoid the feeling or try to stuff the emotions. Or, after that initial shock wore off, I might click a few links or order the book for a thumb-through.
I may never know if there was any fruit to this particular exchange, but I walked away with a clear conscience and a hope and a prayer that, after he recovers from that initial feeling of confrontation, that he will click a few links, read a few posts, learn a few new things. And then teach them to his daughter.
Tell me readers, has this happened to you? What did you do? And how did it end?
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