Trauma in Humans and Trauma in Dogs: they are more alike than you might think

by Claire Anderson, CSAP-BC, FDM, CPDT-KA, FFCP

Boy, this is a difficult article to write because I am deeply in the healing process myself after a series of traumatic events. Trauma is tough, especially if you don’t have the resources to help you heal. So many dogs have or are currently experiencing trauma. Unfortunately, a lot of their guardians do not have the resources to help them or aren’t even aware of the trauma. If you have a dog who suffers from trauma, I hope this article can provide some insight and start you on your healing journey. Let’s start by understanding what trauma is.

What is trauma?

Trauma is an event, set of events or circumstances that are experienced by an individual as threatening or harmful and has adverse effects on their physical, mental, emotional, social, or spiritual well-being. It is important to note that only the individual who experienced the event(s) can know if it was traumatic or not. Nobody else can decide that for them. We all experience life differently and what is terrifying to one individual might be no big deal to another. Often, after a traumatic event or events, traumatic stress is experienced. There is no one way that traumatic stress presents itself because it depends on the individual experiencing it. There are a few symptoms that pop up in most cases, though. Dr. Lori Teller of Texas A&M College of Veterinary Science and Biomedical Sciences says, “the symptoms of PTSD in dogs are similar to those in humans and include chronic anxiety; hypervigilance; avoidance of certain people, places, or situations; sleep disturbances; fear of being alone; decreased interest in a favorite activity; or aggression.” In addition to those, I often see (and have experienced) emotional and physical shutdown from overwhelm.

My Trauma Story

(It’s fairly lengthy—skip ahead to the next section for dog-specific content.)

In 2019, I quit drinking and began my recovery journey. Today, I am three and a half years sober. It has been intense, to say the least. There was a massive behavior change, with little to no foundation laid to prepare me for the emotional and mental fallout. We’re going to start there because that’s when my awareness of trauma began.

At four months sober—after the “pink cloud” wore off—I started to fall into some pretty deep anxiety and depression. It was like someone opened the floodgates and all the traumatic events from my past were flooding in. I shut down. The problem was that I had no idea how to process these past traumas and honestly, I couldn’t even sit with one long enough to begin. That’s when I decided to change everything.

I bought five wild acres on Hood Canal in Washington and literally built a home. For almost two years, I lived in my tiny house on my beautiful wild land and began to heal. Living among the trees with my animals and creating something with my own two hands helped me. Working for everything we needed to survive (water, shelter, etc) reminded me how strong I was. Truly, it was one of the best times of my life and one of the hardest because I suffered many traumatic events.

During this time, I lost my soulmate. My sweet, smart, and amazingly intuitive dog Miles left this world. At 15½ , his health was declining dramatically and he was suffering from cognitive decline as well. I made the decision to euthanize and held him as he passed and for as long as possible after. The grief and trauma of losing my constant companion, my emotional support, and my steadfast warrior was all-consuming. I am still deeply affected by it and I am still going through the “stages” of grief over two years later. “Traumatic” feels like the right word for everything about this loss and at the same time it doesn’t feel like it does it justice.

The following year, my sweet Ziggy passed away. He had a tough life and his brain and body were in constant turmoil. He was fear reactive with a bite history and although medication, management, decompression work, and behavior modification helped, he was never truly at peace. (Anyone who has lived with a reactive dog knows that it comes with its own set of trauma and repeated retraumatization.) After Miles died, Ziggy really struggled. I finally gave him that peace when he began suffering seizures.

In 2021 there was an unexpected electrical fire in my Jeep. It was severe and terrifying. Only the Jeep (and half my belongings) were destroyed and we were physically safe, but mentally and emotionally I was far from okay.

After the fire, I no longer felt safe. I constantly smelled phantom smoke, which put me in a full-on panic attack every time. I repeatedly walked my property, making sure there was no fire. I couldn’t sleep. I jumped out of my skin at every noise. I had terrible nightmares.

Ultimately, I sold my land and home and bought a trailer. I lived on a horse ranch along a river with my dogs. This was healing because every morning, we walked along the river and I was able to process my grief and fear a bit. We also rebuilt, creating our own little home there. However, on a walk outside of town, a dog leaped out of his fence and attacked my dog. We weren’t hurt, but it put me right back into my constant state of hyper-vigilance and anxiety (retraumatization.)

Again, I did not feel safe. I sold the truck and trailer, bought a van, and drove home. I bought the van because I thought that after building my home in a van, I’d never feel trapped anywhere and could be safe to move if things got scary. I was wrong.

Now, I am back in Wisconsin and my dogs and I are living in my parents’ house while we heal and figure out what to do next. I’m still suffering from some pretty intense traumatic stress and while the fire is the easiest trauma to blame, I actually think it’s a trauma-compilation. Yes, I’m in therapy.

All of that history is to show what is informing much of this article. Trauma can affect a brain and body deeply and often in unexpected and seemingly unconnected ways. Sometimes trying to heal feels like a really awful game of whack-a-mole, especially when retraumatization occurs with compounded traumatic events. I’m trying to see the positives. The experience is allowing me to understand what so many of my canine clients are dealing with in a deeper way. I’m healing—I swear I am—and growing. Slowly, very slowly, and not in any linear way because unfortunately, that is not how it works.

Healing is a (long) journey

For an individual (human or canine) who has suffered trauma, safety can be difficult to find. It often feels impossible. I know this because I’ve been frantically searching for safety since the fire and have yet to find it. I have bought 15 fire extinguishers, survival packs, weapons, deterrent sprays, air horns, and various other safety implements. I have changed vehicles and homes repeatedly—at a significant financial loss. Do I feel safer? No, not really. I see this in many of my canine clients who are suffering from traumatic stress: the frantic search for safety and the inevitable shut-down or aggression if they can’t find it.

Many people told me it would just take time to get over it. In my experience, that isn’t true, or at least not yet. Actually, with time my fear has spread to just about every area of my life. Now, I’m not only scared of a few things; I’m scared of most things. It has grown. It has generalized. That’s the terrible thing about fear. Left untreated, it can completely take over. This is another way I can now relate to fear and trauma in dogs. Most of my canine clients who suffer from traumatic stress and fear are not only scared of the thing that initially traumatized them. That fear grows and multiplies. In the following story, I have changed the names to protect privacy.

Bob was a two-year-old male terrier who was attacked by a large off-leash dog in a park. He suffered physical trauma from multiple bites. Prior to this experience, he was a friendly, sociable dog, who enjoyed interacting with dogs and people. After healing from the physical trauma, he initially showed fear upon seeing other large dogs on walks. He’d cower and try to hide behind his human’s legs. Then, he started growling and barking when he saw them. Soon, he’d become immediately fearful the moment they walked out their front door—hypervigilant and reactive not just to dogs, but random objects, loud vehicles, and sometimes people. They could not walk into any open grassy areas because he’d refuse, pulling hard in the opposite direction when they tried. He also began avoiding his leash by hiding under furniture when it came out. His fear had generalized and spilled into every aspect of his life. His human, though she put on a brave face, was experiencing much of the same fear. And it’s understandable, right? Their safety had been compromised.

Time alone would not heal Bob’s traumatic stress, fear, and anxiety. Without regaining his sense of safety, that fear just grows. The traumatic experience doesn’t just disappear from his mind as time passes. In fact, that traumatic experience will always be there, because that is how survival works. His brain and body are just trying to keep him safe.

I’m realizing that at the base of my trauma is a major lack of safety. It doesn’t matter how many survival implements I buy, where I am physically located, or what vehicle I have. The expectation of safety and trust in myself is shattered. I am also realizing that time is not going to erase the traumatic events from my brain. What I—and all human and canine individuals with trauma—need now is what Laura Donaldson, PhD, CDBC, KPA-CTP, calls deep safety. As she explains in her course ‘Grounding: Dogs Healing from Trauma,’ deep safety is both emotional and physical. It doesn’t rely on external mechanisms; it has to be both embodied and felt. It is a stable anchor on which you can depend. (Laura Donaldson, 2023.) I highly recommend her courses to anyone wanting to understand how to help their dogs heal from trauma.

Before addressing the trauma with behavior change techniques, we must address the core issues at play, which are almost universally felt: feeling unsafe, a lack of agency or control, and isolation. Anyone, human or canine, who suffers from traumatic stress, fear, and anxiety feels a major loss of control in addition to the constant concern about safety. They also feel alone in their pain, which as social beings, is incredibly difficult.

Safety, Agency, and Support

So how do we address the foundational aspects of safety, agency, and social support? Thoughtfully, carefully, and slowly with frequent check-ins on the individual’s well-being. The following is written with dogs in mind, but of course, they apply to humans (me) as well.

SAFETY

An individual suffering from trauma needs to find safety and stability as a foundation on which healing can occur. Creating a sense of safety will be specific to the individual, but certain general guidelines can be followed. There must physically safe and secure locations for them. These locations should exist within their environment and should be easily accessible. In addition to secure locations, they feel safer with a predictable routine and predictable outcomes to situations.

AGENCY

In her presentation, “Grounding: Dogs Healing from Trauma,” Laura Donaldson shares a quote by child psychologist Bruce Perry: “One of the defining elements of trauma is a loss of agency and an abiding sense of powerlessness. As a result, regaining control is an important aspect of healing from traumatic stress.”

How do we help an individual regain control? Through agency. We do this by providing choice whenever possible and never using force. For dogs, we can give them the option to opt out of situations that make them feel uncomfortable. We can give them more ways to communicate by teaching helpful behaviors. We can learn to listen to them by getting really good at speaking their language (body language.) We can also give them a way to opt into an experience with consent-based care.

SUPPORT

There is nothing more isolating than deep fear and anxiety. It feels like you’re fighting an unknown demon or demon(s)—and you are doing it alone. Many times through trauma, we lose any sense of belonging. We self-isolate out of fear. Both dogs and humans are highly social species and we crave connection. I know this from working with hundreds of canine clients with varying degrees of fear, stress, and anxiety—and of course, by living my own life as a human being. It can be really hard to develop a connection with a human or dog who is suffering from trauma. They may push you away, hide from you, or even act aggressively toward you. So you make it a goal to simply be there with an offering of connection, in whatever capacity they will accept, at whatever distance they are comfortable. It takes patience, kindness, and love but it is necessary.

*Miles and Claire. Photo by Amber Kissner.*

For dogs dealing with fear, stress, and anxiety due to trauma—and/or any other combination of factors—giving them a sense of safety, agency, and support will help. It is imperative to remember that it will look different for each individual dog. Your traumatized dog may not benefit from a lot of support in the form of physical touch. Your offering of connection may need to be done at a distance and pace they feel comfortable with. Safety will also look different for each individual. Agency can be given in many different ways, only some of which will benefit your traumatized dog. I can help you find ways that will meet their needs.

The Stress Cycle

The stress cycle is another piece of the complex trauma puzzle. Normally the stress cycle functions beautifully. We perceive a threat, we respond, we recover. However, it is easy to get stuck in the response stage and never complete the cycle in our chaotic world—for both dogs and humans. The “response” stage can look like flight, fight, freeze, fawn, or fidget.

Example:

Jessica is out on a midday walk with her dog Sal. A car comes down the road, traveling fast around a corner. He sees Jessica and Sal too late, honks and swerves. They don’t get hit, it’s all okay. When the threat presented, Jessica froze. Sal attempted to flee, but was attached to Jessica by the leash so he desperately yanked her away and barked frantically. Physically, they were fine. The car drove off; they moved on. They walked home, Sal still pulling hard to get home and Jessica still a bit frozen and shaking. Immediately upon getting home, Jessica threw herself into her work. Sal paced around the house whining for awhile and couldn’t settle while Jessica did her best to answer emails and complete her work.

The problem in this example is that since neither Jessica nor Sal was able to complete the stress cycle, their bodies never moved to the recover, rest, and digest phase. Here are a few things that might have helped:

For Jessica: deep breathing, physical exercise, crying, shouting, physical touch or support

For Sal: shredding a box, sniffing, deep breaths, playing, tugging, physical touch from Jessica

Humans and dogs can learn to complete the stress cycle both in the moment and later. By incorporating some of the above exercises into our daily routines, we can ensure that we are completing stress cycles.

An awesome resource to look into is the Resilience Rainbow, by Bobbie Bhambree, CDBC, CPDT-KA, and Dr. Kathy Murphy, BVetMed, DPhil, CVA, CLAS, MRCVS. It is an extremely helpful and insightful framework for helping our dogs and discusses the stress cycle in dogs in detail.

Trauma is complex. Healing from trauma is a journey and not an easy one. It takes patience, dedication, and love (and sometimes some ice cream or shredding a couch cushion!)

I’m somewhere in the middle of my relationship with trauma. I’m learning more every day about how to cope, heal, and grow with it, not run from it. I am also in the middle of learning about how trauma affects dogs and how to truly help them. Each dog I have ever worked with or lived with has been a teacher to me and I hope I have helped each of them. The journey through trauma continues, and as it does I am becoming stronger, more knowledgeable, and more capable of helping dogs and their humans through trauma-informed care.

If you or a loved one is struggling with trauma, please don’t hesitate to find help through a local crisis center or a therapist and reach out to loved ones who can support you. If your dog is struggling with trauma, I can help make your and their life easier. Please reach out to me today!