Let me tell you a couple of stories about our boy, Max, to share a little bit about disappointment and how I’ve had to acknowledge it and just keep on moving.

Our Sweet Max Man

Max is a Shepard/Catahoula Hound mix we adopted from the shelter when he was just a few months old. He was the cutest puppy in the whole world (and maybe still is – just don’t tell the other dogs)! Never the most confident guy, he hid from Maizy when we first introduced them and showed other signs of being a sensitive pup even in his craziest puppy days.

When we got him, I didn’t know a whole lot about dog training, but we tried to do right by him, and he is a good dog. I can’t help but wish that I had known more, especially about ways to build his confidence and resiliency, when he was younger.

Car Rides Were Fun

Max’s favorite thing for the first several years of his life was to jump in the car with my husband and go for a long ride. They’d usually stop at a store for a chew-chew for the road and then go explore out in the woods or up in the mountains.

Fast forward to one fateful St. Patrick’s Day… Max was out in our backyard and jumped over something that caught the underside of him and tore a giant wound into his skin. We promptly rushed him to our vet, who decided the wound was too severe, gave him a shot of morphine (or whatever the canine equivalent is) and referred us to a specialist in town. Poor Max sat in the car with this gaping wound (which luckily wasn’t bleeding a whole lot) for several hours until we could get into the specialist. It was then a blur of surgery, bandages, cones, and more surgeries for several months. The wound was in such an awkward place that we sometimes ended up at the vet clinic three times in one day to get it re-bandaged. It was awful. Awful for us, but even more awful for him.

Now Car Rides are the Worst

Ever since them, Max is scared to get into a car. Super scared. Shaking, panting, shivering, pacing – a mess. The disappointment of knowing that he will never get in the car with the same joy and excitement that he once had is heart breaking. It seems like such a silly thing, but it’s so hard. We go on a camping trip or a visit to see family, and the car ride is hard on him. He’s better than when it first started, but it’ll never be a joy to get in the car.

Disappointment for Both of Us

Fast forward a couple more years. I’m really getting into dog training. I start a pretty intense, expensive class to learn more about dog training mechanics and concepts (not sure if I can say the name, since I haven’t finished yet). It is hours and hours of work, with multiple weekend workshops. Max is my guy for this class. I have to use one of my dogs. One is too old and grumpy and the other is too dog reactive, so I work with Max. He loves training. He loves all the extra attention. He hates the weekend workshops. By the third one (after I’d completed almost all of the course work!), he was so freaked out and unfocused that I had to withdraw. His stress level was off the charts, and there was no way that I could continue with him as my dog for class.

Talk about disappointment. I’d invested time, money, more time, and a whole lot of my life to that class. But there was no choice. I admit I shed some tears, dropped some choice bad words, and wondered if I should just rethink the whole dog training thing.

Nothing to Do But Move On

Here’s the thing, though. I was disappointed. I would even say I was devastated. But that didn’t change my underlying passion for dog training. I learned what I learned from the class. I can’t claim the title yet. But I can keep working with dogs and wait for a chance to take the class again.

I didn’t and couldn’t let the disappointment destroy my passion. Instead, I had to chalk it up as a learning experience and move on. I learned a ton from the class. Nothing can take that away. And I love Max. I don’t want him pushed to do something that is so far outside of his comfort zone. As disappointed as I was in the outcome, I was also a little disappointed in myself for pushing him when I felt like I should have known it wouldn’t be good for him.

It Is What It Is

So, I acknowledge the disappointment. I am disappointed that he will never enjoy a car ride like he used to. I am hurt that we didn’t realize there was something in our yard that could injure him so badly. I am frustrated that I didn’t finish the class and earn the title I wanted to put after my name on my business cards. I can’t stand the idea that I pushed him to the point of so much stress.

But Max is Max. I can’t go back. I can only go forward. So, I keep working with dogs, knowing I learned plenty, even if I didn’t finish the class. I keep trying to make the car a better place for Max. I move on. I am what I am. It is what it is. It hurts, but the hurt doesn’t keep me from moving on.

Your Turn: What disappointment are you facing in your life? Have you faced it full on and acknowledged it? How can you take your next steps?