My dog is reactive. I am anxious. None of this is news. But the two together? They feed off each other.

Maisy can sense when I am anxious, so this makes her more on guard. She wants to protect me. I’m her human, after all. And I can tell when Maisy is on edge and gearing up to bark, or already barking loudly at the dog across the street. This behavior makes me more anxious. It’s a “fun” cycle of fear.

Honestly, my biggest OCD fear right now is that my dog might hurt someone. I’m worried when she barks or lunges, that she will pull the leash out of my hand, run across the street, and bite another person or dog. The secondary fear is that if she bites someone, then she would have to be put down. I feel an extreme responsibility for Maisy’s safety and the safety of everyone around me. Duh, I have OCD.

Logically, I know the probability of her biting someone is low. She hasn’t bite anyone before, at least not to my knowledge since rescuing her. Yes, she is reactive, but I’m holding the leash, and even if she got away, she’s probably more bark than bite. If you were to ask my fiancé Joe, he would say there’s no concern of her biting someone. That is a good measure for me of the reality of the fear. Either way, OCD is rarely logical.

Still, I want to continually work on gaining skills, for both Maisy and myself. Despite feeling anxious, I always seem to be pushing myself. So I signed us up for a six week reactive dog training class. We just finished last week. It went…okay.

The truth is, I (and my OCD) dreaded going almost every week. There were several weeks I almost didn’t go, or I only went because I begged my fiancé to come with us, which lowers my anxiety. Maybe I set my the goal a bit too high to start with exposures, but I did go all six weeks. Am I glad it’s over? Definitely. Am I proud of myself for sticking it out? Also yes.

This trainer sees Maisy’s reactiveness as a fear response, not necessarily aggression. Sure, it may look aggressive, but it’s because she is scared, maybe from past negative experiences, and she is trying to protect us. The training resembles exposure therapy. We would gradually get closer to another dog, starting with a very calm dog, and practicing looking at the other dog, then getting a treat. If Maisy got too stressed, we went back to our cubby.

As the one hour session went on, Maisy would typically start to get used to the other dogs being in the same room, or she would get too exhausted to care too much. I had a similar response, getting more used to the situation each week. We left after that hour tired and warm, but we made it through.

Rome wasn’t built in a day, and behavior (from a dog or a human) won’t change in six weeks. We learned some techniques for practicing being around other dogs, and I practiced at least pretending to be calm. I think I also learned that it’s okay if Maisy isn’t best friends with other dogs. That may always be too much for her.

When Maisy would get too overwhelmed, we would go back to our cubby to practice calming down. As I was stroking her head, I kept saying, “You are so brave. Look at how brave you are being. What a brave dog!” She starred into my eyes, trusting me wholeheartedly, and feeling safer. Plus, her big whale eyes looked oh so cute.

I realized I can say similar affirming words to myself. I should be saying similar, kind words to myself (except the part about being a dog). I am so brave. Look how brave I’m being. What a brave person I am!

Maisy and I are learning to be brave together.

Morgan

P.S. Happy OCD Awareness Week 2025!