YouTube link – text to speech – https://youtu.be/FzJV3tU1tjY 

I was deeply disturbed and saddened to witness a dog professional and a vet using someone’s trauma and bereavement as an opportunity to insult the guardian, their care, and the pain they were already enduring.

As dog professionals, we often witness some of the most heartbreaking moments in a guardian’s life. A serious behavioral outburst, a dog bite, an accident, or the devastating loss of a beloved pet—these events can leave lasting scars. For many, the trauma of these incidents is compounded by grief, guilt, or shame, especially in the wake of bereavement or decisions such as behavioral euthanasia.

When guardians seek professional support in these vulnerable times, they place their trust in us to provide guidance and understanding. But sometimes, this trust is misused. Instead of offering support, some professionals take the guardian’s trauma and use it as a platform to tout their own beliefs or criticize opposing methods. This practice is not only unethical but deeply harmful. Using someone’s trauma—including their grief—as a way to push an agenda is unacceptable and we, as dog professionals, can do better.

Trauma and grief are deeply personal experiences, whether it’s the grief of losing a dog, the pain of behavioral euthanasia, or the distress of seeing a dog struggle with changes after losing a companion, these experiences are raw and profoundly personal. For a guardian, these moments are life-altering—not just anecdotes or “teachable moments.” Using someone’s heartbreak as a springboard for a professional agenda diminishes the gravity of their experience and the emotional weight they’re carrying.

Bereavement brings unique vulnerability which can manifest in many ways, including the changes we see in surviving dogs left behind. Guardians may be grappling with guilt over their decisions, feelings of failure, or even the stigma surrounding behavioral euthanasia. When professionals use these moments to promote their philosophy—whether by shaming a guardian for their decisions or using the story as a cautionary tale—it adds unnecessary weight to an already unbearable burden.

Trauma and grief are not open invitations for storytelling. Even when guardians share their pain with us, it doesn’t mean it’s ours to share. This is especially critical when it comes to sensitive topics like behavioral euthanasia, where guardians may feel judged or misunderstood. Sharing these stories without consent—or reframing them to fit an agenda—violates the trust guardians place in us during their most vulnerable moments.

Grief is not a linear process, and neither is healing from trauma. Guardians who have lost a dog or faced tough decisions are often searching for understanding and validation. When their experience is publicly reframed to fit a narrative—“This wouldn’t have happened if they’d done X”—it invalidates their emotions and hinders their ability to process their loss. True healing begins with empathy, not judgment. We as professionals have a duty of care to never undermine someone’s healing from their bereavement and trauma.

Guardians who experience grief or trauma may hesitate to seek help if they fear their story will be used as a weapon against them. This is especially true for those grappling with behavioral euthanasia, a decision already steeped in stigma. When professionals publicly criticize or sensationalize these situations, it creates a culture of fear, leaving guardians feeling isolated instead of supported. It simply fosters fear, not support. 

Loss impacts not just the guardian but also the surviving dog(s). Dogs may exhibit significant changes in behavior after losing a companion, and guardians often struggle to navigate this new reality. Simplifying these challenges to serve a professional’s viewpoint (e.g., “This wouldn’t happen if you used X method”) overlooks the nuanced emotional and behavioral shifts both humans and dogs experience during bereavement.

Our role as dog professionals is to provide a safe space for guardians to seek support, understanding, and practical solutions. This means advocating for guardians and their dogs with compassion and integrity—not using their stories to validate our own beliefs or discredit others.

Understand that grief is complex and deeply personal. Avoid making assumptions or judgments about how someone should feel or act.

If a guardian’s story could serve as an educational example, seek their explicit, informed consent before sharing—even if the story is anonymized. Be prepared to accept “no” without hesitation.

Focus on offering actionable, judgment-free advice to help guardians and their dogs move forward, rather than assigning blame or using their story to illustrate a point.

Avoid sharing identifying details about a guardian’s experience, especially in sensitive cases like behavioral euthanasia or bereavement.

Before sharing a story, ask yourself why you’re doing so. If the primary purpose is to validate your own views or methods, reconsider.

Grief and trauma—whether from a behavioral incident, bereavement, or the complexities of behavioral euthanasia—demand our compassion, not our opportunism. As dog professionals, we are entrusted with guardians’ most vulnerable moments. It’s our responsibility to honor that trust by treating their experiences with care, respect, and empathy.

By creating a culture of support, we can foster understanding, healing, and progress for both the humans and dogs we are privileged to serve. Let us prioritize humanity and humility in every interaction, ensuring that our profession remains one of trust, advocacy, and compassion.