How I Succeeded and How I Failed

A few days ago, when I went to collect my garbage bins from the curb, my dog joined me on the driveway. At the same time, on the sidewalk, walking towards us, there was a woman with a boy and a little dog. When they saw my dog the mom hollered that the boy was scared of big dogs. My dog must have taken it as a call to play because she ran up to them wagging her tail. I pulled my dog back to the backyard as soon as possible, but the damage had already been done. The next morning I was informed by the police that the dog was reported as being a public nuisance.

I understand the family perspective- we all have a right to walk on the sidewalk without being bothered. I should have followed the first dog owner commandment and have my dog on the leash.

But how did the whole event escalate to a formal complaint level? I decided to reflect on this humbling incident. As John Dewey said, “We do not learn from experience… we learn from reflecting on experience.” So here I am, reflecting and learning. After all, it is a mistake the first time, but the second time it is a choice, as someone else wisely put it.

When I took the Active Listening Training at the Atlantic Listening Academy, I learned to reflect on my experiences with three powerful questions.

*How did I succeed?

*How did I fail?

*What surprised me?

I definitely succeeded at swift damage control. As soon as I saw my dog run up to the family, I wasted no time and pulled her away. I also succeeded at not advising the family on the benefits of controlled exposure when dealing with fear of dogs.

I failed at empathy. I knew the family was scared of dogs from previous encounters in passing, but I questioned their way of dealing with their fear. I should have put my judgement aside. At the time, I should have focused more on their perspective, which would have allowed me to be more empathetic.

I also failed at conflict resolution. When the dad stated that my dog jumped at his son and scratched him, as well as indicated that she should be put down, I was stumped and my brain froze. I gave in to fear and self-doubt, and was not able to think and ask clarifying questions (what kind of scratch?), which would definitely help to de-escalate the situation and share my perspective (yes, my dog ran up to your family because she likes people).

Lastly, what surprised me was how easily I was shocked into stupor and silence. When presented with confusing accusation, I was not able to react in a constructive way. It wasn’t until the next morning when I was able to clearly replay the event in my head, which led to another surprise. According to the police officer, there was no injury or attack reported by the family. Yet, while I hoped my apology was all I could and should do, they filed a report. I guess, even if we agreed on the facts, our attitudes were polar opposites. I should have not assumed the common ground or anything at all.

To sum up, even though I wish I had learned the above lessons without so much drama and trauma, I am glad that I have learned them at last. I am choosing not to make the same mistake twice.