Shy Dog Diaries

Love the Dog in Front of You (A Shy Dog Diary Entry)

• Samara Iodice • Season 1 • Episode 5

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0:00 | 18:04

🎥 This episode is also available in video format on Spotify if you want to see some of Nessie’s recent progress.

What if the biggest breakthrough with your sensitive dog isn’t fixing them—but finally understanding them?

In this episode of Shy Dog Diaries, I’m sharing a deeply personal reflection on what changed when I stopped trying to turn Nessie into the dog I imagined… and started loving the dog right in front of me.

I walk through some recent wins—from a surprisingly smooth vet visit to a bath-time recovery using “touch,” to our very first treat-free walk during the day—and how these moments helped me see progress differently.

Then we dive into something many of us quietly carry: the gap between the dog we expected and the dog we actually have.

I talk about:

  • Why that expectation gap creates stress (and even grief)
  • What it really means to “lower expectations” in a healthy way
  • How to work with your dog’s nervous system instead of against it
  • Why progress with sensitive dogs often looks microscopic—but matters deeply

This episode is about shifting perspective, finding peace in the process, and recognizing the quiet, meaningful ways our dogs grow—and trust us.

Connect with Shy Dog Diaries

Instagram: @shydogdiaries
Email: pod@shydogdiaries.com

When you start thinking this way with your sensitive dog, something interesting happens. You may begin noticing progress that used to be invisible.

Ever wonder what's really going on behind your dog's big feelings and how to actually help them feel safe and thrive? Well, you're in the right place. This is Shy Dog Diaries.

Hello, friends. In today's episode, I'm going to share my thoughts on acceptance when living with a sensitive dog. But before we get into that, I wanted to share some personal wins that Nessie and I have had in the last few weeks—straight from her diary.


Diary / Progress Update

First, we had a very successful veterinary visit.

What had happened was I thought she had scratched her eye playing with her best friend, Luna.

So the vet got us in. We had two hours to load the calming medication into her system. She went in very easily. She even went into the exam room very easily. They really roll out the red carpet for her, and they have a special lick mat that they do for her that has all kinds of treats.

This was a challenging visit because we knew that we were going to have to put drops in her eyes and stain her eyes to check for a corneal scratch. And, ironically, our veterinarian was able to do it quite easily. Then they turned off the lights, shined a light in her eyes, and were able to confirm that there was no scratch, which was really great news.

And then we kind of all looked at each other like, well, are there any other things we need to do while we have her here? And she seems to be doing so well. And as luck would have it, she was due for vaccines in a couple of weeks. So we were able to do one of the injectable vaccines, and then we also did a Cytopoint allergy shot.

And we continued to look at each other like, well, how much do we want to push it, right? You don’t want to overdo it because you may have trouble getting them back in there the next time. So we were able to do all those things, and then in the end, we were also able to give her the oral Bordetella vaccine.

I was so proud of her. She just did so well. And each time it just gets easier and easier. But the key there is knowing when enough is enough.

Another win: we gave her a bath in her little outdoor doggy shower without any calming or anti-anxiety meds.

Halfway through, when I transitioned from using the bucket-and-cup method to rinse her, I thought, well, let's see if we can actually use the shower head. And it worked okay for a bit. She was still engaged using her lick mat, but then it was like she started thinking too much, right?

The water really doesn't bother her, but it's the thought of, oh, something's changed. Something feels different. And then the zoomies—to displace some of that anxious energy. And I had left the doggy door open, so she went into the house, all around the house, dragging water and soap.

And then, interestingly, I gave her a little time to come back down to center because we had to get her rinsed. And then I was able to use the lifesaving technique of touch.

If you haven't taught a touch command or a target command to your dog, I so highly recommend it. This is something I've been able to use just by saying “touch” and getting her nose to target my hand. I've used it to get her to cross streets when she just wasn't moving.

But in this case, I was able to use touch four times to get her back out of the house and all the way back to the courtyard, where her little hot-and-cold water hose was awaiting her.

We did a quick rinse-off, and all was good. That was just such a huge win for us.

And then the really big success—I mean, those were successes—but the really big one is this:

We had loaded her with a little bit of anti-anxiety medication because she was going to go on an outing with a friend. Then we had to abort that outing because the friend was not feeling well.

But Nessie was ready to go.

And I thought, well, okay, I'll take her to the front of the house and we'll do a little walk up and down the street. But she wanted more than that, and she walked our normal little route—two blocks, crossing an intersection and back—without a single treat.

That is the only time we have ever been able to go for a walk anywhere without a single treat. And that was mainly because I was not prepared. She took off walking, and I had no treats with me.

Hopefully that inspires you in working with your own sensitive dog.


Today’s Topic — Acceptance

So now let's talk about today's topic: acceptance.

For guardians of sensitive dogs, much of our stress, I believe, comes from the gap between the dog we imagined and the dog we actually have.

And today I wanted to talk about what happened when I stopped trying to close that gap and started adjusting my expectations instead.

It's only human to bring a dog home with a picture in your head of what they might be. Perhaps that's based on a previous dog, maybe dogs we see online and on social media. And there's also this cultural idea of what dogs are like.

Maybe you think you're going to have a coffee shop companion or a travel and adventure buddy. Maybe you expect your dog to have easy greetings with strangers, or perhaps you want a social butterfly at dog parks.

But as I know too well, reality sometimes looks different.

A lot of times, dogs—whether they're rescue dogs or not—may be overwhelmed by new environments. You may have a dog like Nessie who prefers observing instead of participating. They may be socially selective with humans and/or dogs. Or sometimes your dog may just need more decompression time.

There's this 3-3-3 rule that you may have heard about that rescues often talk about. It's basically three days, three weeks, three months—where at the three-month mark, your dog is expected to build trust and bond with their new family.

But for some of these anxious dogs that we talk about on this podcast, I think you can essentially throw that rule out. And you shouldn't feel bad about that, because there is no mathematical formula to help these dogs thrive.

With Nessie, I had these imagined adventures like I had done with my previous dogs—traveling in the car, leaving them in hotel rooms for short times, bringing them into stores, going on nature hikes.

But the reality was that sometimes even the front yard felt overwhelming to her.

When a dog doesn't fit the mold you expect them to, it's important to realize they're not a bad dog. They're just a different dog than expected.

Something people don't talk about enough is that adjusting to this reality can come with real emotion. You may feel disappointment, confusion, sometimes even grief—and then guilt for feeling that way.

That expectation gap is incredibly common.

For a long time, I kept trying to close it—trying to help Nessie become the dog I imagined. But I wasn't really helping her at all, and I certainly wasn't helping my mental health.

And then one day I decided: I can't keep trying to change who she is, but I can change what I expect her to be.

For me—and maybe for a lot of people—lowering expectations can sound negative, but it's not about giving up. It's about changing the measuring stick.

It doesn't mean avoiding training or enrichment. It means working with your dog's nervous system instead of constantly pushing past it.

For example, success might look like watching the world from 50 feet away instead of being right in the middle of it.

I know Nessie can sit in her front window overlooking everything that goes by for hours, and she's not bored. She's actually absorbing everything. It's enrichment for a dog like her.

Another example might be choosing a quiet sniff walk near home instead of a busy hiking trail.

It took a while to even get Nessie out onto a hiking trail, and we're still not doing busy ones. We go to places that are very, very quiet. But one thing that really surprised me was just changing the time of day.

We now do an evening sniff walk in the dark, just up and down in front of our house. She gets to use her nose and explore the area she observes from her window—but at a time when she feels most safe.

Sometimes it's as simple as making a subtle shift like that.

If you have a dog that's overwhelmed by people coming into the home, it can be as simple as inviting one guest at a time instead of hosting a full house. And when you bring that one person in, make it a very slow introduction. Always allow for an escape.

That could mean keeping a door open behind you.

With Nessie, she used to run to her safe spot—my bed—when people came over. Over time, she started coming out. Then eventually, she stopped running away entirely and became interested in sniffing and slowly checking people out.

Now, for people who know her, it's completely different. But we never would have gotten there without months and months of patience.

Sometimes you may find you cannot do it alone, and that means getting help from professionals—trainers, behavior consultants, veterinary behaviorists—who understand sensitive dogs.

It is not a weakness to say you're overwhelmed and reach out for help.


Progress & Perspective Shift

Going back to lowering expectations—when you start thinking this way, something interesting happens.

You begin noticing progress that used to be invisible.

With sensitive dogs, progress often looks microscopic. Confidence builds in layers. One small success makes the next one possible.

For example, the car used to be a huge challenge for Nessie. She would freeze, plant her feet, and refuse to move.

So instead of forcing it, we played a “find it” game around the car. First treats near the car, then inside the car, then just sitting in the driveway.

Eventually, we took tiny drives—one minute, three minutes, five minutes, ten minutes.

And then one day, after months of this, I opened the car door and she just got in.

No hesitation. No games.

And I realized we hadn't even played “find it” in weeks.

To anyone else, that might look like a tiny moment. But if you live with a sensitive dog, you know those moments are enormous.

Because those tiny wins quietly change your daily life.


Closing Reflection

Once I stopped focusing on what Nessie struggled with, I started seeing her true personality.

The way she steals my slippers every morning to signal the start of the day.
 Her high-pitched, exuberant bark when friends—human or dog—arrive.
 The way she gently takes her evening cookies and darts into bed—my bed.
 And the way she rests her head on my hip when it's time to turn out the light.

For a dog like Nessie—who observes carefully and gives her trust slowly—these things are everything.

They are proof that confidence grows when you learn to love the dog right in front of you.


Outro

And with that, thanks for listening to Shy Dog Diaries.

If you are walking this slower path with your own dog, you're not alone.

Follow the journey on Instagram @shydogdiaries. And if you enjoyed today's episode, please follow, share, and leave a review. It really helps other dog lovers find us.

Join us next time for more tender tales, expert advice, and inspiration for your own dog's transformation.

Shy Dog Diaries is for education and entertainment only. It's not a substitute for working with your own trainer, behaviorist, or veterinarian.