When Something Goes Wrong

Over the years as a dog trainer, I’ve seen a lot of interactions between dogs and kids. Many wonderful. Some awkward. And occasionally, some that go sideways.

That reality is part of why I started the Colorado Baby + Dog class with Megan at Colorado Baby. There’s a huge need for more education around how dogs and children interact. Not because people don’t care, but because most people were simply never taught what safe interactions actually look like.

But there’s another part of these situations that people rarely talk about.

The hardest part after an incident usually isn’t revisiting the training plan or adjusting the management plan. Those things tend to be fairly straightforward.

What’s often much harder are the human emotions that immediately follow.

Humans standing there, shaken. Adrenaline high. A child bewildered. A dog confused. Everyone trying to make sense of what just happened.

In those moments, emotions can escalate quickly.

But the truth is that most people are genuinely doing the best they can with the knowledge, resources, and capacity they have in that moment.

A Story From My Own Life

This isn’t just something I see with clients. I’ve lived it.

My first adult dog was named Duchess. I adopted her through a rescue that pulled dogs off the streets of a rough area of Philly.

She was both human and dog aggressive. She had boundaries that needed to be respected.

And within those boundaries, she was an incredible dog.

One day my boyfriend at the time was walking her when two kids ran up toward her. He immediately warned them she wasn’t friendly and asked them not to approach.

They ignored him and ran straight into her face.

Duchess nipped and broke a little skin. Thankfully it wasn’t severe.

My boyfriend was furious at her.
I felt terrible and scared for my dog’s future.
And thankfully, the kids’ parents were understanding and acknowledged their kids had been warned.

Even when responsibility is shared and everyone understands what happened, the emotional aftermath still feels heavy.

When Empathy Plays Favorites

When something like this happens, it’s incredibly easy to start looking for someone to blame.

Blame makes the situation feel simple. Like if one person had just done something differently, the whole thing could have been avoided.

But situations involving dogs and people are rarely that clean.

Dogs have instincts and thresholds. Kids are curious and impulsive. And adults, even careful ones, are still human.

Which means sometimes things line up in ways none of us expected.

This can happen to anyone.

Another uncomfortable truth is that any dog is capable of biting under the right circumstances.

People often say things like, “My dog would never.” But biting isn’t really about whether a dog is good or bad. It’s about thresholds. Even dogs we deeply trust still have limits.

Recognizing that reality isn’t pessimistic. It’s responsible.

And when something does go wrong, it’s tempting to separate ourselves from the people involved. To tell ourselves I would never do that. To label the other person careless or irresponsible.

It makes us feel safer to believe that.

But when empathy starts playing favorites, we lose perspective.

When we separate ourselves from others in that way, it becomes easier to shame them or assume the worst about their intentions.

Remembering that any of us could end up in a situation like this keeps us grounded — and makes it far more likely we respond with understanding and humanity instead of condemnation.

First: Stabilize the Situation

One question I get from clients a lot in these moments is, “How do you stay so calm?”

The honest answer is simple: practice.

I’ve been in these situations many times. I’ve seen dogs redirect onto owners. I’ve seen dog fights. I’ve seen reactivity escalate quickly. I’ve been bitten. When you work around dogs long enough, chaos happens.

Because of that repetition, my brain goes straight into what I think of as triage mode.

First, create space.

If it’s dog on dog, separate the dogs.
If it’s a child and a dog, create distance.

Help everyone disengage from the moment. Let the dogs decompress. Let the people regulate their nervous systems. Make sure everyone is safe.

Only after that do we start talking about what happened and what we can learn from it.

When emotions are high, the first step isn’t analysis.

The first step is safety.

When Shame Takes Over

One thing I see often with clients after an incident or reaction is embarrassment.

Many of my clients are extremely responsible. They’re taking precautions, managing their dogs thoughtfully, and actively trying to do the right thing.

And sometimes something still happens.

When it does, people often feel helpless or ashamed. So they stop taking their dog places altogether.

While that reaction is completely understandable, it can create a bigger problem.

When dogs lose exposure to the world and opportunities to work through difficult situations, their tolerance shrinks. Their confidence shrinks. Situations that once felt manageable start to feel overwhelming.

Ironically, the very thing people do to prevent another incident can sometimes make future problems more likely.

That’s often when people start labeling their dog as hopeless or aggressive.

But in my experience, that label is usually premature.

I truly believe most dogs can make meaningful progress with the right guidance and consistent work. I’ve seen dogs improve that I initially questioned myself.

That doesn’t mean every dog becomes perfect.

Perfect isn’t the goal.

The goal is helping dogs and their people develop the skills and understanding needed to navigate the world more safely and confidently together.

Learning From Difficult Moments

After situations like this, I often encourage people to pause and ask three simple questions.

Not to assign blame, but to learn something from the experience.

What went well?
What could have gone better?
What will we do differently next time?

Even difficult situations can teach us something when we approach them with curiosity instead of shame.

Talking about these moments openly also prepares us for the next one.

Because the reality is that you can’t expect yourself to handle a stressful moment perfectly if you’ve never thought about it before.

It’s the same thing I tell people about dog training all the time: a skill doesn’t show up in moments of chaos if it hasn’t been practiced in moments of calm.

We talk about these situations.
We rehearse them.
We think through them ahead of time.

And when something unexpected happens, we’re far more likely to respond thoughtfully instead of reacting purely out of panic.

Dogs deserve understanding.
Kids deserve safety.
And the people trying to raise both deserve support, not shame.