I'm a dog behaviourist adopting a dog tomorrow - and yes, I'm scared

Tomorrow I will be bringing home a dog. And even though I'm excited and I feel like it's the right decision, it still scares me.

I support adopters with rescue dogs. I spend my days talking about nervous systems, adjustment, decompression, behaviour, body language, fear, stress, and the realities of life after shelter environments.

So in some ways, I imagined I would feel more prepared. I've navigated a multi-dog (and cat and ferret) household, travelled with my reactive girl Gioia and worked through a number of behaviour difficulties that have both taught me and challenged me.

I'm not scared because I anticipate something will go wrong. But because understanding behaviour means understanding just how much we can't predict. This is one of the hardest parts of adoption and it's something I feel passionately about supporting adopters with.

The reality - like with most overseas rescue dogs- is that our new friend is not arriving as a blank slate. He will arrive with his own genetics, past experiences, coping strategies, stress responses, preferences, fears, and a completely different understanding of the world than mine.

He was found as a stray and has spent many months in a shelter environment. They are noisy places where dogs alternate between states of frustration, boredom, overwhelm and excitement, and that undoubtedly takes a toll. He is also an adolescent hound mix, who will bring with him all of the energy and instinct that entails.

The reality of adopting a rescue dog

One of the biggest misconceptions about rescue dogs is that the behaviour described, tells you something about the dog who will meet you. But as a response to stimuli, interactions and setting - behaviour can always change - meaning if you change an environment, behaviour invariably changes to0.

Sometimes dogs appear confident in kennels and struggle once they find themselves in a home. Sometimes fearful dogs blossom once they feel safe. Sometimes behaviour only emerges weeks later, once your dog feels comfortable. Context matters enormously and losing everything familiar is extremely stressful.

Entering a home can be stressful too, even when that home is loving and the people there are excited to have you.

In my experience, the reality of adoption is very layered. It can be exciting, emotional and wonderful - yet also difficult for everyone involved. We face connection and uncertainty, love and overwhelm. And new beginnings for a being who didn't get a say in where they live and who they live with.

So many unanswered questions

As anyone who has adopted knows, there are so many unanswered questions.

Who is this new being entering our lives, and ours his?

What lights him up?

What behaviour challenges will we face along the way?

Will he settle easily?

Will he feel safe indoors?

Will he enjoy affection, or find human interaction overwhelming at first?

Will our current dog even like him?

As much as we can prepare, until our dogs settle, these questions remain largely unanswered.

What I’m focusing on instead

As much as I would like to, I know I cannot predict every possible outcome. The only thing I can do is prepare, and trust that time, patience, routine and connection will work its magic.

For us this preparation looks like:

• setting up quiet spaces (preparing areas the dogs can rest or interact away from one another)

• keeping expectations low initially (cancelling all non-essential plans, and letting things unfold)

• reducing social pressure - there will be no outings or meeting visitors just yet

• prioritising safety and predictability: routine and small predictable patterns throughout the day

• expecting stress related behaviour rather than taking it personally: think jumping up, mouthing, vocalising, hiding, reluctance to engage

• remembering that adjustment is not linear: what goes well one day may not be the same the next - all sentient beings need time to process huge change and form connections

As any adopter knows, love alone does not make transitions easy. But if you're preparing to adopt and feeling anxious, overwhelmed or scared, I don't necessarily believe this means it's the wrong decision. It is an acknowledgement of the respect and understanding needed to make things work.

In our case, I'm very aware this dog is about to leave behind everything he knows. The smells, routines, sounds, people, and environment that have become familiar to him, even if those things were difficult at times. In the coming days, I will be trying to remind myself that while I can't control his feelings about leaving the place he calls home, I can control the space I bring him into. I hope it will be a space of realistic expectations, with plenty of room to learn what it feels like to feel safe, loved and wanted.