I am ambivalent about posting these dog photos. Although I love my dogs, I am still suffering from PTSD from an incident in which I could not control them, and they viciously attacked a greyhound who had just been attacked by another standard poodle the previous week. I took full responsibility for the attack and paid the poor dog’s veterinary bill. Still, I fear walking Thumper (the big guy). He’s too big and I cannot control him.
Interesting metaphor just occurred to me, piggybacking an interpretation offered by my psychologist Friday when I described my fear of violent and agitated men (specifically, agitated and violent seriously mentally ill men). She asked if I may fear that part of me that rages, that goes to that red zone where my rational mind cannot control my behavior. Yes. Yes, I do fear that part of me, and regret the damage done to those I love when I rage.
[…] have to get our reactive dogs into dog training; actually, the humans in the family need training on how to communicate with our […]
Oh wow you have to many topics you post about! I love your roses and your sweet dog photos! I have a cocker spaniel and I post about her all the time! I love these! 😀
Wonderful dogs, but I understand the fears and PTSD. And rages are the worst. Talk about self- hate…
We DO work hard on it, don’t we?! We should give ourselves a standing ovation for that.
That’s so well put – treated but not cured. It’s ironic really, isn’t it? When we work so hard on our health
Your dogs are beautiful, but I understand how you feel after that incident. I had a horse once who went out of control while I was riding him. He ran as fast as he could for about two miles while I was holding the reigns screaming for help. As much as I loved him, I was never able to look at him the same again and eventually sold him.
PTSD is a bitch and it can be difficult to not have triggers take you back to that place. I wish you well, my friend.
Out of body describes it exactly. It’s scary, to us, to those around us. Medication definitely helps. No doubt. Unfortunately, the risk remains, for we manage our illness. The illness remains, treated, but not cured.
My rages scare me. They scare other people a whole lot more. I’m pretty much out of body when its happening. The higher my medication dose, the better I’ve become.
On another occasion, my two dogs pulled me along the sidewalk (I rolled onto the grass to avoid the concrete) for six feet while chasing another dog. The dogs get too excited and dog aggressive, and they are too strong for me, especially as a pack. I only walk the small one alone now. They have a backyard and dog door to the yard, and they love and play with each other. I prefer to walk in peace than fear.
It is a lifelong journey. My psychologist made the interpretation about my fear of agitated aggressive men. I extended that interpretation to my dogs’ behavior. One difference between the two is that I am ultimately responsible for my dogs’ behavior, as well as my own, sick or not sick.
i was traumatized by walking my sister’s dog when he went batshit crazy at another dog. He made me fall on the ice and I even got a hole in my coat at the elbow!! I haven’t walked that fucker since!! That is too worrisome.
Wow that’s an unusual story and the your and your therapist’s interpretation of the connection between your dog raging and your rages is fascinating. Of course you were not the dog, you couldn’t control what your dog did, but you felt responsible. I always feel responsible on some level for mixed episodes, which are always full of rage for me. I have to have little chats with myself so that I can remember this is an illness. I take responsibility and apologize, just like you paid the doctor’s bills for that other dog, but I am sick. We are sick. We have to learn to forgive ourselves, and I think that’s a lifelong journey. It’s just so difficult!
Fair enough – you could always get someone else to do some training. You could also, when you’re up to it, teach him some stuff at home.
I’m sure training him would help, but I’m not ready to do so. At least not now. I can walk the smaller dog alone, but Thumper is too big and too strong.
We didn’t schedule a follow-up session. I see her on an as-needed basis. I’ve had a LOT of therapy over the years, over thirty-three years.
Maybe the greyhound had it coming.
Greyhound: ha! Poodles are fags!
I kid, I kid. Can you take the big dude for some training? Have you ever tried clicker training with a dog? Can you control him if you walk him alone? Animals always have the potential to be unpredictable – it’s a truly horrible thing for you to have gone through, but you did the right and ethical thing and that’s really the best you could have done.
One of my dogs is a softie, but big. He suddenly went for a maltese poodle one day – luckily it didn’t go too far and the owner was freaking out (understandably), but the dog was fine.
And rages … ohhhh yes me too.
Thank you for responding. Thank you also for providing a place for those with dissociative identity disorder to offer each other support.
I LOVE these photos – they really are wonderful. I am so sorry about what happened with your dog, and I totally understand why you would have PTSD from the incident.
This post really moved me because of several reasons. For one thing, I’ve been on the other side of the coin, so to speak, in which my Sheltie was attacked by my landlady’s Akita in front me. My dog had most her chest ripped out on Easter Sunday. She made it through emergency surgery, to my immense relief. My landlady was nowhere near as ethical and gracious as you. She didn’t take any responsibility whatsoever.
As to the metaphor you mention, what your psychologist observed makes complete sense. I also relate all too well to fearing the “that part of me that rages, that goes to that red zone where my rational mind cannot control my behavior.” I’m glad you’re meeting with the psychologist ,and I hope you find your upcoming sessions very useful.
I think we all fear the rageful part of us. I know I do for sure. I cant see the pics due to blindness, but I’m sure they’re great. XXX