There are 24 hours in a day. That’s 1,440 minutes. Yet sometimes, just five difficult minutes manage to influence how we feel about all the others.
Someone makes an unkind comment, something doesn’t go to plan, or we have an awkward conversation. Hours later, we’re still replaying it, possibly coming up with the brilliant reply that would have been useful at the time. Usually while making a cup of coffee.
Meanwhile, the pleasant conversation, the lovely walk and the things that went perfectly well barely get a mention.
I think we can do something very similar when we look back on our days with our dogs.
Was it a difficult walk, or a difficult moment?
You head out for a walk and, for much of it, things feel pretty good. Your dog enjoys some sniffing, checks in with you and manages a stretch of lovely loose lead walking. You spend a bit of time together, get some fresh air and watch them investigate a patch of grass with the dedication of someone examining a crime scene.
Then another dog appears unexpectedly. Your dog barks, the lead goes tight and you both find the next couple of minutes difficult.
When someone asks how your walk went, what comes to mind?
“It was a nightmare. He barked at another dog.”
That moment happened, and how it made you feel matters. But so did the rest of the walk. The sniffing, the connection, the comfortable lead walking and the time you enjoyed together are all part of the same story.
Sometimes, one difficult moment gets such a prominent place in our memory that everything around it quietly disappears.
The good stuff can be surprisingly quiet
One of the challenges with noticing progress is that it often looks rather uneventful.
A dog resting while you make lunch doesn’t usually demand your attention. A dog choosing to walk away from something worrying may do it so quietly that you barely notice. Your puppy picking up their own toy instead of your slipper probably doesn’t get the same response as the slipper theft would have done.
Understandably, the barking, grabbing, pulling and chasing tend to catch our attention. They interrupt what we’re doing, sometimes quite dramatically.
But there is plenty worth noticing in those quieter moments. Your dog watching something and then turning back towards you. Choosing to settle nearby. Exploring somewhere they previously found difficult. Coming when called, even if their arrival includes a brief inspection of a particularly interesting leaf.
These moments help us see what our dogs are learning, what they feel comfortable with and where our support is making a difference.
Looking at the whole picture
This isn’t a suggestion to brush difficult experiences aside with a cheerful “never mind”. Some walks are hard. Some days leave us feeling frustrated, worried or exhausted, and finding something positive doesn’t magically remove those feelings.
However, looking at the whole picture can give us more useful information than simply deciding that everything went badly.
Perhaps your dog walked comfortably until another dog came much closer than they could cope with. Perhaps your puppy managed a lovely period of play before becoming tired and grabbing at your clothes. Perhaps recall was going well until the surroundings became much more distracting.
Those details matter. They help us think about what happened and what might make things easier next time. More space, a quieter location, a shorter session or an opportunity to rest may be more helpful than asking either of you to try harder.
They also allow us to recognise the parts that were going well. We can build on those.
“If you’d like some support understanding those difficult moments, our 1-1 sessions give us time to look at your dog’s individual needs.”
Your dog’s difficult minutes need understanding too
It can help to consider the experience from our dog’s side of the lead.
We might describe a moment as embarrassing or frustrating. Our dog may have found it frightening, overwhelming or simply more exciting than they could manage. While we’re thinking about what other people saw, our dog may still need space and time to feel comfortable again.
That is an opportunity to pause, create some distance and consider what they need. We don’t have to squeeze a successful training exercise out of every difficult encounter. Sometimes, heading somewhere quieter and enjoying a gentle sniff together is a sensible decision.
There is something valuable in being the person who helps your dog through a difficult moment. Safety and trust grow through those everyday experiences, including the slightly messy ones.
Progress doesn’t always look impressive
In training, it’s easy to focus on a finished result. We want the relaxed walk, the reliable recall or the dog who can settle comfortably while we have a coffee.
Along the way, progress often arrives in smaller pieces.
Your dog might need a little less time to feel comfortable. They might choose to move away, look towards you for support or manage something at a distance they previously found difficult. You might notice their early signs of discomfort sooner and help before things become too much.
These changes can be easy to overlook if we’re only asking, “Did my dog bark?” or “Was the lead loose for the whole walk?”
A more useful question might be, “What felt easier for my dog today?” That gives us room to notice meaningful changes without expecting every day to look the same.
“Our Life Skills sessions offer opportunities to practise everyday skills at a pace that suits the dogs taking part.”
Make room for time you both enjoy
When we’re working on something we find difficult, it can gradually become the focus of nearly every interaction with our dog. Walks become recall practice. Sitting together becomes settle practice. We start assessing everything.
Learning matters, but so does enjoying each other’s company.
A gentle sniffing adventure, a favourite game or a relaxed search can give you both something lovely to share. There doesn’t need to be a performance to assess afterwards. You can simply notice what your dog enjoys and join them in it.
For some dogs, scentwork is a lovely opportunity to explore and use their nose with support from their guardian. For others, a familiar game at home or a quiet wander is just the thing. The activity should suit the dog in front of you.
A little look back at the day
Before deciding that today was a bad day, try taking a moment to remember what else happened.
What did your dog enjoy? When did you feel connected? Was there something they found easier, or something you understood a little better? Perhaps they rested comfortably, asked you to play or made you laugh by doing something wonderfully dog-like.
You don’t need to turn it into homework or produce a spreadsheet of achievements. Living with a dog already involves enough admin, most of it involving poo bags.
Just give the good moments a little attention too. If it helps, make a note of one thing you’d like to remember. Over time, those small observations can help you recognise changes that are difficult to see from one day to the next.
And on a particularly hard day, be kind to yourself. You don’t have to force a positive verdict. Rest, support and a fresh start may be what you both need.
Your dog is a whole individual, with feelings, preferences and plenty of moments worth noticing. Your relationship is built across all those ordinary hours together.
A difficult few minutes can be part of your day without becoming the whole story.

