It’s a funny thing social media. It allows us to share the most wonderful things and make amazing connections and share in the joys and sorrows of so many individuals. It also allows a controlled window into our reality, an ability to display and portray what we want the world to believe.
Someone made a comment to me earlier in the year about how amazingly my hounds were doing based on things I had been sharing online. And it’s given me pause to think about how and what I post and what I’m trying to achieve by posting, and realise I’ve inadvertently presented a bit of a rose coloured life thru a lens (I am the ultimate 90s Robbie fan!). It’s been done for good reasons (or that was my intention) but I’ve become very self aware that it does distort reality. This becomes hard to post then for me – because I adore greyhounds, I adore my greyhounds and want to celebrate all that is wonderful and special about them and their achievements. By promoting how wonderful they are, maybe that will encourage more people to adopt greyhounds and experience their magic.
Nothing I’ve posted has ever been a lie or a stretching of a truth. However, I tend to only ever post the positive – which doesn’t balance out with the reality all the time.
I always go back to Maisy with this. Not a dog that sold herself or gave herself easily, if you look at Instagram and facebook Maisy is most well adjusted little cuddle bug. This is a little Schrodingers cat of a thing really – she both is and isn’t. Maisy loves to cuddle us on the sofa and the people she has let into her circle are privileged to be licked, leant on, sofa cuddled and “Maisy snapped” at to ensure she is getting more belly rubs. She will snuggle on the bed and roach for better access to belly rubs. However – if she doesn’t know you, she will still retreat to her safe corner and we make sure no one touches her there so she continues to feel safe. She has a time limit for cuddles before she goes to the dog bed closest to the sofa. She doesn’t like to be walked by anyone that isn’t Joe or I, although she will tolerate someone familiar as long as Sam is with her. She doesn’t like cafes or beer gardens that much but if it’s quiet, will stand nicely by us for a fuss and a treat before her anxiety starts to kick in.
The chances are – she will always have some degree of anxiety or fear. Whilst we would obviously prefer she didn’t for her sake, we are ok with working within her limits, giving them a nudge when it’s safe to do so to see how far we can push her. Maisy has already surpassed our expectations beyond wildest dreams and this is why I always post to celebrate her. It’s wrong of me though not to acknowledge that she and we still struggle on times – it presents the illusion that a bit of time and patience and chimkins has solved all of her issues. It hasn’t. It’s improved them beyond what we thought possible 2 years ago and she’s not done yet.
Which brings us on to Sam. Four years down the line and he continues to learn and surprise us. Sam, again not portrayed online by myself particularly (as to me it’s only a small part of what makes up the complex Sam puzzle), is dog reactive, very much so with bigger or fast moving dogs. Walking Sam can be a complex test of observation, deflection, management and apologies (he’s always muzzled and on lead so it’s just loud barking mostly – Maisy is weirdly dog bomb proof so happily wanders with me to meet the dog that’s triggered Sam in the hope Sam might follow her example!). Sam does better in new places, his interest in the sniffs and surroundings overtaking his reactive anxiety and so I’m guilty of many posts of him muzzle free (when we are confident we can manage any situation) looking like the most chilled and engaged walking buddy.
He’s learnt a lot though and is comfortable with a lot more than he ever used to be. We’ve posted his holiday snaps online for years – we’ve never said that the first 24-36hours are challenging, that he may refuse to eat or struggle to settle or do some pacing overnight. This years sky bang escape week to Cornwall was the first time he has settled happily with us from evening one – even if both hounds thought they could fit in the bed with the humans. Celebrating that requires an acknowledgement that for every other trip it hasn’t been sunshine and roses, which is hard to acknowledge because it makes it seem like previous trips we’ve (us or Sam) has somehow failed.
The actual reality is that we should be better at acknowledging that none of us, humans or hounds are perfect and we don’t get it all right or are perfectly adjusted from day 1, day 100, day 1000. Life behind the lens can be hard, can feel like your dogs are lacking compared to others, prompting a need to share the highs, to validate that you and your hounds are doing well. You are. You really are.
We aren’t in HelloMagazine and we aren’t the perfect family we can portray in pictures or words. But we are perfect for us, we are each others happy ever after – even if that looks like cleaning kitchen floors at 9pm and middle of the night anxiety soothing. These dogs don’t owe us anything but they give us everything they can – always something worth celebrating,
