Small dog big lessons

Sometimes the ones who teach us the most about healing are the smallest.

For me, that teacher came in the form of a long-haired miniature dachshund named Apollo.

What started as a puppy adventure slowly became a lesson about trauma, trust, and learning to feel safe again.

I am a dog mom. I have the most adorable long-haired miniature chocolate dapple dachshund. He is one of the most wonderful blessings I have received, and this beautiful little soul teaches me something new every day.

When Apollo came into our lives at two months old, we decided we were going to give him the happiest life a dog could have. We took him to puppy school, we brought him everywhere with us, and he quickly became the most well-behaved puppy you could imagine. He was potty trained very fast, and we were incredibly proud of him.

As he grew, however, we started noticing that he was very intense with other dogs. At the dog park he wanted to play, but many dogs didn’t want to play with him. His persistence, though, was bigger than his tiny body.

One day he tried to play with a golden retriever who clearly wasn’t interested. Apollo insisted, and the golden retriever ended up biting him. I wasn’t there, but my partner told me everything when I met them at the emergency vet. Apollo had to go through surgery and received eight stitches. Thankfully, he recovered rather quickly.

What we didn’t realise at the time was how much this event would affect him afterwards.

After that day, taking him out became much more complicated. We tried going to the beach, but it quickly became clear that he struggled to interact with other dogs. Every time he sees one, he becomes overwhelmed with emotion and completely loses control.

With every interaction, we became more anxious too. We took him to the vet, he was prescribed anxiety medication, and he was neutered, but his reactions are still very strong. Now we are continuing to work patiently on his training.

This experience has taught me many things — even giving me a glimpse of what it might feel like to raise a child.

In many ways, I see myself in Apollo. I understand him more than I can explain. I have realised that my own anxiety can sometimes be just as overwhelming. Just like my puppy, I have been hurt before. There are moments that trigger something inside me — moments that don’t simply remind me of the past, but take me right back to the instinct to protect myself, to be cautious, to distrust.

I’ve come to understand that this may be part of why it can be difficult for me to open up to new people. Loss and pain leave marks.

Today, though, I like who I am. I wish more people could see me as I truly am, but I also know that healing takes time. I have to be patient and take small steps.

I am learning that some of these reactions are instinct — pure biology. Just like Apollo’s.

Slowly but surely, with the help of those who love me, I am learning that I am safe.

And Apollo is safe too.

We are walking this trauma-recovery journey together.