Letting Go

When Ella was a puppy, she loved to grab hold of the leash when we went on walks. She would clench down on the leash, and the tugs-of-war began. No matter what, Ella hated letting go. She loved to find the leash at home when I wasn’t looking and run off. She chewed through countless leashes.

As Ella matured, chewing leashes became less enticing, although once in a while, she will get over-excited and decide the old habit of grabbing the leash is a good idea. To get her to let go, I either drop my end or exchange the leash for a treat. It’s a win-win. Thankfully, the rate of buying new leashes has significantly diminished.

Tightening the leash

Reactive dogs like Ella, can easily find themselves in frightening or startling situations. Ella’s reactions can be quick, loud, and often caught me off guard. I now see the warning signs that tell me things are not okay with her. However, for many months, my reaction to her reaction was to tighten the leash.

A tighter grip on the leash is not an ideal communication style to transmit to your dog, as it signals tension and stress. But, that was my knee-jerk reaction to not controlling a situation. I’ll rein Ella in, and we’ll muscle our way through it.

Muscling my way through things has not always given me the best results. I realize sometimes it’s needed. Workouts at a Crossfit gym I attended certainly required muscling my way through on days we pushed a weighted, metal sled across the pavement. However, muscling my way through helping a reactive dog get through a challenging scenario is a no, no. The better response is to redirect her.

What’s my response?

Caring for Ella this past year has made me look deep within and question my reactions. Am I tightening my grip and muscling my way through situations that are out of my control? How do I respond to stressful situations? Are there warning signs (i.e., the need for self-care, rest, time in prayer) that I am ignoring that lead to less than desirable reactions?

Tightening my grip

The grip of control seems to be a knee-jerk reaction that is hard to overcome. When I can’t control outcomes, my grip seems to tighten, and the tug-of-war ensues. The game of tug-of-war is exhausting, and for the past year, I have been through more rounds with the Lord than I care to admit. I suppose it took as many as it did to help me see that His plan would be better than mine; of course, it would be.

Lessons from Ella

I am thankful to our trainer who taught me the leash skills needed to guide Ella. Keeping a loose leash and helping redirect Ella’s attention back to me keeps her on track. It has taken a year of countless hours of behavioral work and training; however, she has learned that reorienting her gaze towards her caretaker gets her through the challenging moments.

Ella has taught me that keeping my gaze on the One who cares for me gets me through challenging moments too. After all, God is our sanctuary. Keeping my eyes on Him is the key to letting go; otherwise, I am distracted.

I am grateful, beyond words, for the lessons Ella has taught me. Here are a few more I would like to share:

• Distractions are a detriment.
• Tug-of-war games leave you exhausted.
• The art of redirecting is essential.
• Keep your gaze on God, the Father.
• Letting go is always the better option.

Ella met a new friend a few weeks ago. A young man who seems to have fallen for her, and she’s quite smitten by him. Now, it is time to start the process of letting go and handing over the leash to Ella’s soon-to-be new owner.

This time, I will keep my gaze on the One who had this planned for Ella all along.