Stepping Back From Aggression Cases: A Hard, Honest Shift

This is a post I’ve been sitting with, while I have tried to push on. Because for years, aggression cases were at the very center of my work. I poured my energy, my focus, and a huge piece of my heart into helping dogs who had crossed serious lines—biting, lunging, guarding, fighting—and the families who were trying to hold it all together.

I showed up for people in crisis. I coached safety plans at midnight. I reviewed bite histories that made my stomach drop and still worked to see the dog behind the behavior. I’ve stood in living rooms where lives had felt completely shattered and sat with clients as they made impossible decisions. And I did all of it because I believed—still believe—that those animals matter, and that change is possible.

But I’ve also come to understand that I can’t keep showing up in those spaces.

Aggression cases are intense. They require high-stakes decision-making, advanced safety planning, and a deep emotional commitment from everyone involved. And while I’ve been honored to support many families through those cases, I’ve also realized that the toll—mentally, emotionally, and physically—is no longer sustainable for me.

What Changed

In December 2023 I was diagnosed with meningitis. I made a recovery, but to my bewilderment, I got meningitis again in October 2024. The second time, I did not make a full recovery. It left me with permanent neurological damage. My brain doesn’t process the way it used to. My memory is not the same. I have to be more careful with my energy, my time, and even my exposure to everyday illnesses—because my doctors have told me that another round of meningitis could come from something as simple as a cold.

It’s changed how I move through the world. And it’s changed how I work.

Where I once could power through crisis-mode sessions and complex aggression cases back-to-back, I now need more space, more quiet, and more recovery time. Because I’m so committed to my clients and helping their animals, I thought I may have to give up behavior work altogether. But instead, it forced me to ask: What kind of work can I still do beautifully? Where can I make the most difference, without constantly putting myself or others at risk?

And that question led to a different kind of clarity.

One of the hardest parts of this decision was letting go of the idea that being a “real” expert meant taking every case. But expertise isn’t about being everything to everyone. It’s about working within your strengths, staying grounded in ethics, and doing consistently excellent work.

What I’m Focusing On Now

I still love behavior consulting and training. But now, I’m specializing in lower-stress, high-impact cases where I can offer clear, thoughtful, sustainable support for both animals and their people.

Here’s what I’m working with now:

• Dogs with reactivity, fear, and anxiety

• Overwhelm, over-arousal, and chronic stress

• Emotional wellness and enrichment

• New pet adoption support (dogs and cats!)

• Cooperative grooming

• Cat behavior cases

I have a deeper understanding of struggle and adaptation now—and that makes me an even more empathetic and strategic behavior consultant.

Many animals I help are recovering from stress, trauma, injury, illness or confusion. And I can say that I unfortunately personally understand what that feels like.

If You’re in a Hard Place

If you're navigating an aggression case right now, I see you. I’ve been in that space with so many families, and I know how hard it is to live in that in-between space—where you love your dog but feel afraid, confused, or out of options. While I no longer take aggression cases myself, I’m happy to refer you to colleagues I trust—people who specialize in the high-stakes work that these situations require.

And if you're in another kind of tough situation—living with a dog who startles easily, barks at every sound, struggles to decompress, or just doesn’t feel safe in the world—I’m here for you. That work matters. It changes lives. And I’d be honored to support you in it.

This shift wasn’t easy. But it was necessary. And it’s taught me so much about sustainability, boundaries, and how to stay deeply in love with this work—even when the shape of it has to change.

Thank you for being here and allowing me to help you and your pets.