I Saw Myself in an Aggressive Dog — And Finally Understood Our Struggles

Hypervigilance and the quest to love and be loved

Photo by Heather Miller on Unsplash

I spent the weekend at my cousin’s cottage by the lake. It’s the kind with huge windows and soaring water views.

For a family of four, it’s seriously spacious. Bill confided, “My parents built a small cottage to discourage visitors. But we wanted enough space for everyone to come and feel welcome.”

That philosophy is evident throughout. The furniture is the kind you sink into. The boat house fridge is overflowing with cold drinks. Every night there’s a different pie, crumble, or cobbler on offer. It’s a place where you feel good.

Bill’s a shy, mellow guy who met his match in exuberant Paula. She carries the conversation while he grills and manages the water sports. It’s as idyllic as it sounds, with one exception. The one family member who didn’t get the memo — Lacey, their black lab mix.

Lacey was rescued at five months old. Nobody knows what she experienced early in life, but clearly, some of it was difficult. When I met her last fall, she couldn’t be off-leash around new people. Her penetrating eyes fixed on me whenever I moved and she maintained an invisible “keep away” force field, lunging if I penetrated it by a hair. Her bark is a…