It was the anger in his voice that caught my attention. “If you eat one more thing off the ground, I swear.” The man was pulling at his dog’s leash, trying to separate the bulky looking rottweiler from something or other he’d found at the foot of a tree. Something tasty, I gathered. I passed them on the sidewalk just as the dog gave in to the pressure of the leash against his neck. I could hear his owner muttering behind me, “Honestly, how many times have I told you? What’s wrong with you? Who eats stuff off the ground?”

Dogs, I thought. Dogs eat stuff off the ground.

This guy was chastising his dog for what was perfectly normal dog behaviour. I found myself shaking my head. He’s not a bad dog. Then I smiled.

It was a line I’d heard six years ago in a dog walking workshop. I was living in Toronto at the time and had just broken up with my boyfriend. I needed a distraction and a job, and dog walking made as much sense as anything else. 

The workshop was held in this little grey room with no windows. I remember feeling tired from crying about my break-up the night before. My mind wandered a little as I sipped on my thermos of coffee, wishing it was a cosmopolitan, but I tuned back in just in time to hear a story about dogs that would teach me one of the most valuable lessons I’ve ever learned about people and relationships. 
 
“People bring their dogs to me when they just can’t take it anymore. They tell me, ‘my dog is a bad dog’ because it’s pulling at the leash or digging holes in their backyard or growling when their toy is taken away.” 

Sounds a lot like my ex, I joked to myself wryly.

“The first thing I tell them is this: The problem isn’t your dog.” I raised an eyebrow. “Your dog is behaving exactly how I’d expect a dog to behave under the circumstances.” 

Where was she going with this? It’s a dog, deal with it isn’t exactly what I’d hope to hear from my dog trainer. You’re setting a pretty low bar lady, I smirked, feeling pretty sure of myself. Then she came to her point:

“The fact that you don’t like how he’s behaving doesn’t make him a bad dog.” 

The fact that you don’t like how he’s behaving doesn’t make him a bad dog. I was repeating her words in my head, only I’d replaced the word dog with person. 

Before that day, my basic approach to every argument was keep talking until they agree with you. It was important for me to be right because some part of me believed that being wrong reflected on me as a person. That it made mewrong. So naturally, if we disagreed, my preference was that there be something wrong with you. 

It had never occurred to me that there might not be anything wrong with either of us. 

Not a day goes by when I don’t get frustrated with someone about something. Something they said or did or didn’t say or didn’t do. My reflex is still to call them names and assign them a category. Jerk. Self-Absorbed. Ignorant. Stupid. Only now I know better.

They’re not a bad human. They’re behaving the way you’d expect a human to behave under the circumstances.

When we’re hurt or scared, we use labelling to separate ourselves from the people who hurt/scared us because it makes us feel good, and makes it easier to treat them badly. You’re bad, and I’m over here with the good people. You’re not like us, so I can treat you however I want.

But they are like us.

Their upbringing might be different, their circumstances might be different, but they’re making choices and forming opinions based on what they’ve learned and experienced. Just like me. Just like you. 

A simple shift in thinking, leaving the labels aside, helps us reconcile our differences by learning to disagree without dehumanizing. To say, I don’t like what you did instead of I don’t like who you are. There’s a good chance we’re wrong about that last part anyway unless we have the full story which we rarely do. But if we keep one another close instead of pushing each other away, we may be fortunate enough one day to hear it.

I never did become a dog walker, but I figure I got more than my money’s worth out of that workshop. My boyfriend and I got back together a month later and have been together ever since. Ironically, one of the only arguments we haven’t managed to resolve is whether or not to get a dog.

C.