It was a Thursday in February 2023. I went to work, like I had for the previous 14 years. It was an average house, in an average area of town. I was met by a woman, and I asked, “Where’s the dog?” The dog was in the yard. I asked her if there was a reason for that and she said, “We don’t let him in the house.”

Red flag number one.

I saw the flag. I asked her to tell me more. Each of my clients fill out a form before an appointment, giving me their contact information, the dog’s basic information, and answer specific questions about aggression. There were no red flags on this client’s form. The dog was approximately a one year old, male pit bull who had been living in this backyard for 3 weeks. The background information revealed that they captured him roaming in the neighborhood and were unable to locate an owner or a chip that identified the dog. The dog was taken to the vet and given vaccinations and a check-up. I explained to the woman that I do not train dogs that live in yards, but if she would like to incorporate the dog into the home and family, that I was happy to continue. She told me she worried about the dog being safe with her cat and kids.

Red flag number two.

I heard it. I asked, in detail, for any behaviors or feelings to explain her fear. She gave me some vague answers.

Red flag number three.

At this point, I ignored the flag. I should have pushed harder, given her a boundary or referred her to another trainer, but I didn’t. This is my mistake that led to a moment that changed me. This is my pattern; my problem. I try too hard to please people at my own expense. I worry that people will judge me if I show any fear around dogs. I don’t respect my own rules. Remember, I said that I don’t train dogs that live outside?

I then tried to convince the woman to bring the dog inside, rather than believing there was a reason the dog was kept outside. I literally ignored this human’s behavior and words and decided that with my training, I could show her that the dog could be safe indoors, or at least we would find out if that were true. And we sure did!

My goal was to assess for any clear signs of danger. The dog entered the home, took a correction to get off the couch well and responded with very little interest to the cat. I was focused on this dog being safe with the cat and the kids. I had the wherewithal to pick up the bowl of cat food and to shut the door that had a bowl of popcorn it in, but I was not thinking of my own safety. I was arrogant and falsely confident. I was too comfortable after 1000s of homes and dogs and much success, I was just walking through this like it was any other day.

Some of the things that happened were good. I asked if the dog had food aggression. I watched the woman grab the dog’s collar when he jumped on the door. This dog was not showing any signs of aggression. I believed what I saw and heard. What I didn’t consider is what I didn’t see and didn’t hear. There was no declared reason for this dog to be kept in the yard. In fact, he had escaped the night before and the couple spent 3 hours in the night getting him back. There was no clear explanation of why the woman didn’t trust him. The husband and kids were not home and therefore I only had one person to talk to me. I felt something was off and I ignored it. I focused on the job I was hired to do and moved forward. What I have since learned is my only value was to train this dog. I did not value my opinion, my feelings, my instincts, or my common sense. I placed more value on this stranger’s money, time and needs over my own.

I felt the dog’s body stiffen and he bit my foot. He bit me a total of three times. He shook my foot back and forth and I barely remained standing. I stood there, balanced on one foot and was calm and silent. I heard my mentor’s voice saying, “Whatever you do, don’t end up on the ground.” I dug deep and balanced there and began to count slowly in my head. One….two….if I reached three, I knew I had to do something more. I was forming a move in my mind…three. He let go. Thank God. I hadn’t found any way out of this except to ask the woman to help me. She stood there frozen and watched. I am not sure that she could have helped, even if I had asked her.

Once I was free, I calmly told her to grab a chair and usher the dog out the door that was behind her. And she did. I hobbled to the nearest chair and said, “I fear my foot will swell, so I ‘m going to remove my shoe now.” Still, I was the professional. Still, I was worried more about the impact this event had on the client, than myself. She immediately began firing questions at me. I answered them all. I comforted her. I told her how to remain safe and what to do now. The pain was immense. I knew it was bad. I was scared to look, but had to do it. If you are squeamish, skip ahead. I couldn’t see clearly how many punctures I had. There was a lot of blood. My toe was crooked and the pain was clouding my thinking. I told her I had to go. I attempted to limp and was not able to withstand the pain of my foot on the ground. I asked her for help. She seemed more traumatized than me, so I kept talking her through this ordeal. It was so awkward! She assisted me out the door and turned my car around, so I could get in easily. The pain! I got in my car and drove to the nearest hospital.

I drove myself to the hospital. I drove slowly in the right lane and hoped not to pass out. This is insane, right? I had to beg a stranger to get a nurse because when I arrived at the ER door, I couldn’t walk to it. Someone came with a wheel chair and I gave her my car keys! I never divulged the owner’s information; to protect her. Again, I was more concerned with my job, my reputation and the integrity of the owner. All I thought about was protecting the owner from charges or suffering. I even texted her to tell her I arrived safely to the ER!

Let me stop here and tell you that just two years previous to this bite, I shattered a vertebra at a client’s home and endured terrible pain and huge financial losses. It never occurred to me that anyone had a responsibility to me or that I had one to myself. My only thought was that I could take it. I just had to get through it and I would. The universe had to give me this lesson again and this time, I learned. After both injuries, I never received any message of concern from either client.  It’s hard to believe. I made excuses for them. With both injuries, I lost a year and a half of my income, incurred tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills and have two injuries that I will not fully recover from. It put a burden on my family, my business, my finances and my soul. But, the truth is, I downplayed the events to the owners. Why would they care, when I kept assuring them that all was well? They do not know what I went through. I completely protected them from any harm and any responsibility for my injuries.

I feel the cement in my back every time I sit in a chair. I have a tremendous fear of falling down. I have pain in my toe almost constantly and just looking at it makes me feel how vulnerable I am. These are my reminders to tend to myself. I have had a lot of downtime in the last year while I recovered from the bite and the surgeries that followed. I have discovered how frequently this pattern has been in my life. The pattern of, I can take it. The pattern of downplaying my suffering. The pattern of protecting others from harm and taking it all upon myself. The pattern of caring more about other’s feelings than my own. The pattern of accepting financial burdens to protect others. Although, I have learned my lesson and adjusted my business structure and my policies to protect myself, I still struggle to remember my value in this world. I have PTSD from the bite and a healthy fear of dogs that I never had before. I have gruesome flashbacks at random moments and can be overwhelmed when similar scenarios appear. These are all in place now to remind me, to take care of myself and my safety and the consequences that I have received from neglecting my thoughts and feelings. I am strangely thankful for the incident. I can still do most things. My injuries haven’t halted my abilities to work or play, even if they remind me with pain frequently. I could have been paralyzed or worse. I know that.

I have asked myself if I am still a good dog trainer. I have wondered if I can be as good as I was now that I have physical and emotional weaknesses. I have struggled with this lesson the most. I have felt ashamed and embarrassed of my new fears. I have felt like an imposter and even considered that my career was over. I have pushed myself to face things that I didn’t want to face. I have come to terms with what I will and will not do and the risks I will take in the effort to train someone’s dog. It’s the value piece that haunts me. It comes up all the time. Who is more important? My client or me? The answer is we are BOTH important. We BOTH matter. Pleasing a client does not mean that I sacrifice myself.

So, am I a better trainer, now? No. I was a great trainer before the incident and I am still a great trainer. I am a better person, now. My clients are now receiving an honest, thoughtful and self-respecting dog trainer. Because I am more compassionate with myself, I can be more compassionate to others. Because I now hold safety for all as my number one rule, we will all be safer. Because I am afraid and unsure, I can empathize with my clients when they are too. Dog training is about so much more than your dog learning obedience cues. It’s about love, priorities, leadership and communication; between you and your dog and between me and you.

And lastly, I wish the trainers that produce the videos of themselves wrestling aggressive dogs would realize that this is not what the industry is about. We are not super heroes without fear of consequences; and facing the danger head on, physically, is not wise or needed to have a positive training outcome. Dogs become aggressive when their needs are not met, when they don’t feel safe and when they don’t have the skills to survive in their life circumstances. A great trainer will ensure that the dog and owner feel safe, that their needs are met and the appropriate skills are taught to cope with life. We all deserve these basic things.

You won’t see one of these videos from me. I know I’m brave. I have already proved it!