On our next walk, I noticed the change immediately. People crossed the street, pulled their kids closer, and avoided us. I felt anxious, and Oswin seemed to sense it. He started pulling and barking more than usual. The collar wasn’t just affecting others—it was affecting us. After talking to a friend who works with animals, I realized the collar wasn’t necessary. I switched back to Oswin’s old blue one, and the tension faded. Walks felt normal again.
A week later, I ran into the stranger at the pet store. Her name was Faye, and she explained she’d worked in dog rescue, where red collars were used as warnings. She hadn’t meant to scare me—just to help. We talked, laughed, and cleared the air.
That experience pushed me to enroll Oswin in obedience classes. Slowly, we both grew more confident. Eventually, we even joined a therapy dog program. Oswin now visits retirement homes, bringing comfort and smiles wherever he goes.
What started as an awkward comment became a turning point. I learned that small moments can change everything—and that growth often begins with discomfort. Sometimes, curiosity and kindness are all it takes to find a better path.
