The Lonely Canine Owner: When Shame and Embarrassment Trump Love and Loyalty

As I sat down to write about Dogs Anonymous, an online support group for people struggling with their dogs’ behavioral issues, a disturbing thought crept into my mind. What if we’re not just talking about difficult dogs here? What if we’re actually discussing the breakdown of our relationship with these creatures, and with ourselves?

The story behind Dogs Anonymous is one of empathy and understanding, but also of a deeper societal problem: the pressure to be perfect dog owners. Social media platforms showcase immaculately groomed canines, strutting around in designer strollers, while many owners struggle with messes and mood swings. The shame and guilt that come with not meeting these unattainable standards are suffocating.

Louise Crane, president of Dogs Anonymous, founded the organization to create a safe space for owners to confess their struggles without fear of judgment. Weekly sessions allow attendees to share their experiences, bond over shared struggles, and receive guidance from animal behavior experts. What’s remarkable about Dogs Anonymous is its emphasis on prioritizing the owner’s emotional well-being.

A recent survey revealed that 53 percent of respondents felt alone when dealing with their dogs’ behavioral issues, while 78 percent experienced caregiver burden. It’s no wonder owners are turning to online support groups like Dogs Anonymous for help. But what does this say about our society? Are we so desperate for validation and connection that we’re willing to sacrifice our own emotional health in the process?

In an industry where “putting dogs first” has become a mantra, prioritizing human emotions over canine ones is a radical concept. Jerri Scherff, one of Dogs Anonymous’ cofounders, puts it bluntly: “We’re putting dogs before people because we’re not giving ourselves permission to take care of ourselves.” This sentiment resonates deeply with me – as someone who’s written extensively on food and cooking, I’ve witnessed firsthand the ways in which our relationship with food is often a metaphor for our relationship with ourselves.

The Dogs Anonymous approach is built around the 12-step recovery program, which emphasizes sharing experiences, strength, and hope. This framework is not just applicable to addiction but also to our struggles as dog owners. By acknowledging our own vulnerabilities and imperfections, we may find that our relationships with our dogs become stronger, more authentic – and less burdened by shame.

The New Orleans owner who posted about her anxious pit bull’s reactivity training still resonates: “I’m exhausted. Is there no other way?” The answer lies not in the latest training methods or behaviorist advice but in confronting our own shame and guilt as dog owners. Dogs Anonymous offers a glimmer of hope – that we can find solace, support, and understanding among fellow canine companions who get it.

Prioritizing our own emotional well-being over the need for Instagram-perfect canine companions might just lead to more joy in our relationships with our dogs. We’d no longer feel exhausted from trying to keep up appearances, but instead, we could focus on building stronger bonds with our pets. Only time will tell if Dogs Anonymous can help us find a healthier balance between our love for our dogs and our own emotional needs.