People often see the business. They see the behavior consultant, the social media posts, the success stories, and the dogs making progress.
They don't always see the person behind it.
Running a small business is hard. Being a canine behavior consultant is emotionally demanding. Living with chronic pain and mental health challenges adds another layer. And lately, grief has made everything heavier.
Losing Bean and Phoenix has left me in a place where I'm not my best self. That's a hard thing to admit when your job is helping people through some of the hardest moments with their dogs.
Grief doesn't care about appointment calendars. It doesn't wait until the emails are answered or the bills are paid. It shows up anyway.
One of the hardest things to say out loud is this: I haven't always been the person my clients deserve me to be. Not because I care less, but because grief, pain, and exhaustion change what I’m able to carry.
Even the "Easy" Parts Are Still Hard
Then there's Elphie.
People joke that raising a puppy must be easy for a behavior consultant. I wish.
Elphie is an incredible dog. She's funny, smart, and so much fun to live with. I have an amazing co-parent in Hannah and an incredible support system of fellow professionals.
And it's still hard.
It's still tiring. It's still a full-time commitment. Knowing the science behind puppy development doesn't magically create more hours in the day or more energy in my body.
Professionals don't get a cheat code. We just have different tools. And honestly, we probably worry more than most about if we’re getting right and even the slightest behavior “issue” we see in our puppies.
Learning What Capacity Really Means
Running a business while managing chronic pain, mental health challenges, grief, and raising Elphie has forced me to rethink what success looks like.
Success isn't always doing more.
Sometimes it's setting boundaries.
Sometimes it's asking for help.
Sometimes it's admitting that your capacity has changed.
For a long time, I felt guilty about slowing down. Guilty about delayed emails. Guilty about needing rest. Guilty about not being everything to everyone.
I'm learning that boundaries don't mean I care less. They mean I'm trying to build a business that's sustainable instead of one that burns me out.
If You're Struggling Too
I'm sharing this because I know I'm not the only one.
Whether you're a small business owner, a pet professional, or just someone trying to keep your head above water, you don't have to pretend you're okay all the time.
You can love your work and still be tired.
You can love your dog and still find raising them exhausting.
You can be good at what you do and still need support yourself.
I'm still here. I'm still learning. I'm still committed to helping dogs and their people.
I'm just learning that the person behind the business deserves the same compassion I work so hard to give everyone else.
