Animals are my most outstanding teachers.

Occasionally, I foster dogs in need, primarily Dobermans. Each time I accept a new dog, I vow it will be the last time, yet I cannot resist stepping into the lives of these animals.

So, I say yes, hoping the transition will be swift and smooth.

Tears of joy mixed with sorrow come when they find their forever home.

My heart breaks a little each time.

I will then curl up with Joie, my soul dog, letting her know she did a great deed, showing love and affection to these dogs in transition.

A middle-aged Doberman named Antoinette, with a history of abuse, came to us a month ago. I wasn’t looking for, nor was it a particularly great time to be fostering another animal; however, this girl needed a safe space, and I couldn’t turn her away.

For most animals and dogs, especially, the pack is where safety lies. Antoinette quickly assessed I was the pack leader and sought me out for direction and guidance.

As I observed her, I recognized her struggle to fit in. She made mistakes, peeing on the floor, jumping on the furniture, and displaying signs of dominance and aggression. She wanted me alone and would push Joie away.

Joie and I had our work cut out for us.

Having witnessed animals change and grow, I reminded myself her struggles were temporary. Knowing with time, understanding, and Joie’s example of a balanced life, this girl would adapt as well.

Antoinette was making significant progress in finding her place within our pack.

And then we had a setback. I had a significant event on my property where Antoinette became agitated and overstimulated, resulting in an altercation between her and Joie.

My initial thought was I could not tolerate this behavior. My primary concern was for Joie’s well-being and the harmony in our home.

When we had time to calm down, I could assess the situation.

I realized I had overestimated Antoinette’s level of adjustment.

And it was my stuff, not hers, I needed to look at.

The universal language of all species is body language. A flick of an ear, a downward glance, or the bristling of the spine can alert us to unspoken intentions. Intuition, hyperawareness, and diligence are needed to read these behaviors, and I had missed them.

Why did I expect Antoinette to be perfect? To be comfortable in a situation she had never encountered? I was expecting too much from her.

I sought out her heart and sensed her remorse was genuine and deep.

My lesson that day was of judgment.

When we judge something, we limit our understanding of what it is. We lose our ability to see.

My initial judgment was of her progress. I overestimated her, thinking she was ready when she wasn’t.

My second judgment was that her dominant behavior was who she was and would be forever.

As if frozen in time, my judgment of her had closed the door on the possibility of change.

Our behaviors are a melange of everything we have ever experienced. Antoinette’s behavior stems from a past only she knows.

My judgment of her to miraculously change overnight and let go of what abuse she has suffered was unrealistic. It takes time to heal and adapt.

Once again, I must thank these four-legged ones who enter my life. Antoinette joined to remind me judgment stops our ability to see.


When we make a judgment, change is no longer possible in the mind of the judge.

Update: Antoinette found her forever home. She knew it when the moment arrived, even though I did not. She is home with Joie and me. She never left.