On Trauma the Acute, the Chronic, and the Overlooked
You come in from the yard after the dogs' last out before bed. The younger dogs head to the dog room and their crates. You've rearranged and you point the puppies who grew up in your home to their crates' new locations. They all but shrug as they head to their new crate, unbothered, unphased. The dog that came to you as an adolescent? They spin in circles, they bolt from the room - back and forth, back and forth. You patiently (you've been here before with them and other dogs too) herd them back into the room and shut the door. Again, they spin, then panic and fling themselves at where their old crate was but the door is closed. The dog inside looks up startled. Finally, you are able to herd them to the open crate. They stand in the opening, frozen. Then fling themselves inside.
It's easier the next time. By the third time of the new pattern they're only a little jittery. Eventually, with enough repetitions, this becomes a new pattern they take comfort in just as they did in the old pattern.
I want to talk about something that has been very much on my mind and that is how trauma can affect dogs, especially Azawakh.
Trauma isn't inherently abuse or neglect. That's not what I'm discussing here, though trauma can certainly be the result of abuse or neglect, it can be much more mundane and everyday. I imagine that most of us have times that we can look back on where something was said to us as a child that made a lasting lifelong impression. And, at least in my experience, a lot of times those statements weren't meant to hurt or injure. There are times when statements are well intentioned. That doesn't mean they don't create trauma. Intention does not, cannot, dictate impact.
Dogs are very much the same. Most owners, most breeders, want the best for their dogs. But the experiences of those dogs or lack of experiences shape them for good or for ill for their entire life.
Part of my job is to be able to look at a dog and assess potential. I have to sort through history and behavior to determine if a dog's behavior is the result of genetics, socialization gaps (their own form of trauma), pain, trauma, or a combination of those factors. I've had roughly a dozen adolescent to adult Azawakh come through my home - some remarkably well-adjusted and some needing a lot of support (be it pain control, exposure to the world, or something else).
Gem was always an incredibly easy adjustment. No trauma. Just a dog that was ready to absolutely tackle the world and bend it to her will.
Korai? I have a lot of friends and family who knew him as an adolescent who have told me that they wouldn't recognize him as the same dog looking at him as an adult if they hadn't seen the changes happen over time before their very eyes.
When I am working with trauma based reactivity (usually the result of a dog attack though sometimes I see dogs that have been hit by cars react to traffic passing quickly, etc) it can be some of the most tricky reactivity to work because triggers can be unpredictable or unexpected (dogs and for that matter humans don't always make logical associations) and because that past trauma often seems to override all else - genetics, previous positively conditioned emotional responses, and more.
When I was doing my training apprenticeship, I had my project dog. This was a dog I was assigned that I had to work with over the course of three weeks. I did all the training, supervised by mentors. The very first day, we were working in the training room and a broom fell over as we were working heeling exercises. My dog was a six pound Yorkie named Lola. She was the epitome of a blank slate. She definitely had socialization gaps, but by in large she'd been a quiet house pet, brought home and then forgotten when a baby came a few months later. Unsurprisingly, the broom falling next to her startled Lola badly. For the next three days, Lola bolted away from that spot in the room. Nothing truly bad had happened. No one wished her ill. It was simply bad luck.
Finally, my mentor looked at me and told me that I had to stop avoiding the spot in the room and work her through it. My mentor (correctly) noted that this was a dog that didn't know how to work through trauma or adversity and that even more than Sit or Down, it was my job to teach her that just because something bad happened in that part of the room didn't mean that would always be true.
This is what I mean when I say triggers caused by trauma can be unpredictable. If one of my colleagues had worked Lola, unless they'd read my notes or talked to me or seen it happen, they never would have known why Lola suddenly started bolting away from one particular part of the room.
With some dogs staying matter-of-fact and persistent is what works best. I did a fair bit of this with Lola. We got to the point where she started bolting and I just waited. She flew to the end of her leash, hit it, and nothing happened. She pulled away but got no where. I kept a bit of leash tension on her and when she released the pressure I praised her. At this point, praise was a big motivator for her so she further released the pressure and took a few steps toward me looking to expectantly. And yes, she got her treat.
To a certain extent with dogs that have experienced trauma, you need patience and you need understanding, but if sympathy leads to you avoiding the issue versus helping them conquer their challenges, your progress is going to be limited. As I work through a lot of these issues, I'm very matter-of-fact working through them. I insist. I don't drag them. I don't bully them. But I insist. And I have yet to find a dog as insistent as I am. Once they make some progress confronting their fears is easier to keep things light. "Did you die?" I laugh and ask them as they shake the stress off and turn around to confront the pressure again, this time curious and with increasing confidence. "Did you die?" Becomes a cue for them indicating they are perhaps facing a different stressor than previously, but they can be just as successful in this scenario as the last one.
Conquering their fears gives them more confidence than anything else could (there are still plenty of other confidence building strategies out there that are highly effective).
Before I worked Lola through the area where the broom had crashed down, one of my mentors had me put Lola on place and both watch her work a dog in the same area the broom had crashed down before. Lola, for all that she was terribly spoiled, was a smart little dog and you can bet that she was watching another dog work in the same area of the room that she was scared of; she was able to see the other dog was completely safe, engaged, and happy.
That type of observational learning (and positive peer pressure) can be so powerful with any dog, but especially when dealing with ones with trauma. Seeing another dog, often one they trust, be successful in the face of adversity lends them more courage. If this sounds like anthropromophism, I encourage you to try this yourself at some point with your own dogs. Not all dogs learn well through observational learning, but it can be a powerful tool in your tool box.
In fact, it is one of my most utilized tools in my toolbox is observational learning. In particular when I have board and train dogs, the peer pressure and good habits of my personal dogs tend to provide an excellent example for the dog I'm currently working.
A few weeks ago, Korai got hung up on some out-of-place garden wire. It results in a skin tear that needed a double layer closure and 9 stitches to his inner left thigh. He was extremely good for the treatment, even though he was in a lot of pain. For his recovery, he couldn't be in his crate, with the size cone he needed. His crate is his safe space. It's a pattern of his daily routine, a pattern he knows well.
Instead, especially so he could still safely be near the other dogs, he was in a pen in the living room. He definitely bolted around mindlessly at the end of his leash (leashes are such an important tool to make sure they don't reinjure themselves the first few days) the first few times we took him out of his pen. He struggles with the change in routine. As mentioned above, this is not the result of abuse or neglect, he simply lived a quieter more home oriented life before he came to me at a year and a half hold. As such he didn't get used to the pattern of performance trials or road trips or hikes or staying in new places. In contrast, he was showed reasonably often and shows are one of the places he's happiest to this day. This lack of adaptability stems largely from a socialization gap, which is a form of trauma. Most dogs have socialization gaps - we simply can't be everywhere and do everything, no matter how hard we try.
He adjusted to routine with his pen relatively quickly. He stopped trying to run back to his crate when it was bed time and instead would wait by his pen. But something fascinating happened - he started reverting back to behaviors I'd only seen in adolescence. One habit that popped up when Korai was a teenager and working through some difficult fear periods, is that he would scream at the faintest hint of discomfort. Someone held his collar? Scream. Reach in to put his leash on at a performance event? Scream. Lift a front leg up to put pajamas on him? Scream. Time to dremel nails? Turn into a pancake and scream the whole time. It didn't matter if it was me handling him or someone else. The result was an ear piercing sound that made everyone look over in alarm.
And that was exactly the particular habit that came back after his injury. As painful as that particular sound is, I wasn't surprised to see the habit (which we haven't seen in literal years) return. Why? You might ask. A good question. This is acually very typical. Behavior quirks or issues can be improved or modified via targeted training and behavior modificaiton work. However, during periods of great stress or a higher number of triggers, those behaviors tend to return and the dog may relapse. Thankfully, this is usually only a brief period while the stressors are at their peak and as long as you are patient and persistent they will resolve.
In Korai's case, being separated from the other dogs was stressful. Sleeping in a different location was stressful for him. In addition to the pain of his injury. So the fact that he started screaming again briefly? Inconvenient, but anticipated. We ended up letting Korai be loose with the older dogs sooner than planned, because that helped settle him. We let him sleep loose instead of the pen, which also distressed him less. Oddly, the cone, the thing that didn't bother him that you might expect a less flexible dog to struggle with? He had absolutely no issues with it, although his preferred way of navigating was walk until he hit your legs, then pick another target and walk until he reached it This may have resulted in a lot of bruises, but he was happy and pleased about his method for navigating.
This rigidity, a lack of flexibility, when it comes to routines and patterns is the number one issue I see in dogs who have had narrow socialization during critical periods. I got Ash, my smooth Saluki, who passed in July of this year at 12 years old, at seven months old. He was rescued as a three month old puppy from yard where he lived in the Qatar summer heat. He then bounced between four different fosters and two different countries (Qatar and the US) by the time he was seven months. Understandably, he came to me with some trauma, though after his rescue he was always supported and loved. Until he was about 2 years old whenever he got overwhelmed, he would shake and bolt and pee. Any change of routine caused him to panic. Dremeling his nails instead of nail clippers? Panic. Sleep loose instead of his crate? Panic. Sleep in a new crate upstairs in the bedroom instead of downstairs? Panic. With time and patience, we was able to learn new routines without panic. However, this is an example of what is so common in dogs with socialization gaps - changes in their known patterns and routines causes panic.
Tamotait came to us at thirteen months old. She had lived with her breeders until she was 6-7 months old. There she had lived a quiet live and hadn't gotten out to explore much. She then moved in with a judge where she learned about show ring training, but that was the primary focus from 7-12 months of age (nothing wrong with this, we also focused on the show ring first with Gallifrey and are now targeting general obedience and manners). She then went to another home. During her transport, she was exposed to kennel cough and had to be quarantined when she arrived at her knew home. The qurantine plus the hectic timing over the year end holidays created a hectic transtion and she just was not adjusting well to her new home, so she came up to us and has been with us since January of this year (2026).
Tamo is a really cool dog. She is inquistive and wants to understand how the world works. When she first saw a rocking chair, she poked it and took a few steps back to watch it rock. She is excellent with the other dogs - she's never been sharp with them. She is certaintly a typical adolescent at times and can be busy in the house, which can be annoying to older dogs and humans alike. But for the most part, she's a fantastic pack dog. She's gotten started in all sorts of activities. She finished her UKC Championship in short order, took Best of Winners at the National Specialty, has three majors, she's not only qualified in straight racing and lure coursing, but is pointed and ranked as well. Every time we get back from an event, it doesn't matter what event, she bounces around the house wagging her tail.
Despite all that. If you approach her, she wants to duck away. If something unexpected happens she'll jump three feet straight in the air. She struggles with doorways and passes back and forth before flinging herself through them. All these are signs of trauma. Again, not abuse. Not neglect. Just socialization gaps that manifest as quirks to this day. Can she walk through a doorway calmly now? She can. I've worked on it with her. But if she's startled or over excited, she'll often revert back to bolting through the door as fast as possible (just like Korai reverted while he was injured).
This is the reality of working with trauma. You can have some fantastic break throughs. The trauma based behaviors can all but disappear. But in times of stress or new trauma, those habits return - usually not permanently. They are more tractible having worked through them successfully the first time, but I often hear from old clients who I haven't heard from in years when their lives have become particularly stressful and their dogs are struggling. While a challenge, this is normal, and usually all they need is some suport to be more successful at regulating again.
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