
02/07/2025
From resistance to rhythm, one nail at a time.
When Darcy first came into my life at three months old, she gave me a message right away.
"Don't rush me."
It was her gentle way of saying she needed respect and patience from the very beginning. In all aspects of her life.
I heard her message but I didn't fully listen.
Nail clipping was becoming a battle.
For a while, I tried to clip her nails in the usual way. Quickly, or with treats, even when she was resting.
But every time, she pulled her paw back and gave me a look.
It was clear she was telling me something, but I kept pushing, trying to force it through my own fears and expectations.
Then I remembered her message. "Don't rush me." I'd look at people rushing their dogs from a sniff and think 'not nice', yet I was rushing my own dog to 'be ok' about having her nails clipped.
So one day I bought a scratch board, and immediately Darcy started filing her own nails.
It was playful, she was making the choices, we were in together and it was 100% consent based.
But then I realised I still needed to do the back nails and her dewclaws!!
So I dropped into my body as an animal communicator and asked Darcy, "how do we do this together?".
No pressure, just curiosity and a desire to support her.
"One nail at a time and wait for me to show you which one" was what she gave me.
So I brought out the clippers and showed them to her. She sniffed them and I just sat and waited. No force, no rushing, no fear. Just connection.
She pushed out her back left leg. I touched her paw and said "this one?". She kept her foot where it was and I clipped a nail.
"Shall we do another?" I waited, sat and watched and felt if she was ready for another. Yep, one more, clip, no bother!
I asked again and up she got and moved away.
OMG I was so thrilled.
That was the first time in 2 years, I'd felt we'd done it together. That I'd let her lead and show me how to clip her nails rather than watching videos on how it 'should' be done. Rather than pushing her through it or sneaking up on her when she was asleep.
We did it her way. As a partnership.
The small act of listening, truly listening, taught me everything.
Her signals weren’t a problem to fix. They were an invitation to slow down, to connect differently with HER!
The real lesson: sometimes, the simplest moments, like clipping a nail, are where connection is built or broken.
What if you paused long enough to really listen?
Where might you be rushing your dog when slowing down is what they're inviting you to do?