Building Trust: A Story of Quiet Connection and Canine Healing

Today, I sat on the floor with a dog—a Lhasa Apso—who couldn’t bear to be touched.

This little dog had a troubled start. At just 11 months old, he was sold by his breeder. The lady who bought him knew deep down that perhaps it wasn’t the right time, but she took him anyway. He was shy, shut down, and completely unreachable.

And then, just days after bringing him home, tragedy struck. Her husband passed away unexpectedly. The little dog had not even had a chance to bond with her yet. He kept his distance, his heart shielded, she found it impossible to get near him. They had to coral him and lasso him to get him on a lead, more trauma.

At this point, a friend stepped in and offered to help. That’s when I got the call.

I didn’t rush. I didn’t ask for anything. I simply sat quietly on the floor, not looking at him, not speaking—just breathing slowly, softly, allowing myself to sink into his world.

I scattered a few treats gently between us, creating a trail for him to follow. Slowly, inch by inch, he began to trust the path I had laid before him.

Eventually, I held my hand flat on the ground with a tiny treat resting in the centre. Without hesitation, he took it. And then the next. And the next. And the next.

In his own time, he shifted forward and gently rested his chin on my knee.

A few more treats, more time passing and he shuffled onto my lap, looked up at me for the first time...... Still I asked for nothing back, I didn't try to stroke him, just let him be safe.

No fanfare. No fireworks. Just trust. Quiet, precious trust.

This is what behaviour work is all about. It’s not about "fixing" dogs. It’s about listening. Listening to their bodies, their fears, and the stories that live in the silence.

Healing takes time, and it’s not always immediate. It’s a journey of understanding, compassion, and quiet patience. For this little dog, trust wasn’t something to be rushed—it was something to be earned, step by step, moment by moment.

Sometimes, the most profound connections are made in the stillness.