The Hardest Pivots
The post I never planned for. The one I wish didn’t exist.
When the Season Stops
This wasn’t the next post I intended to write. It’s completely unplanned, and devastating to experience.
On Saturday, during a training session, Beacon finished a sequence, cooled down, and then came up lame on her left shoulder. There was no obvious incident: no slip, stumble, or collision. But my gut said stop, and my training and experience agreed. At the time, there were no other obvious signs beyond the slight limp.
By Sunday morning, the picture was clearer: she was guarding the shoulder in both extension and flexion, holding the limb in abduction and external rotation on stance; clear evidence of only partial weight-bearing. These signs confirmed the call to stop was the right one, and shifted focus immediately into protection and monitoring.
It’s not my first time here. Years ago, Gossip, fresh from representing Canada at the EO Championships, suffered a catastrophic hip dislocation in a freak accident at home. It ended her agility career in an instant. Thanks to a toggle & pin fixation surgery and careful rehab, she lived a full, healthy, and happy life. But that experience left a mark I still carry.
Last year, it was my turn. A shingles diagnosis brought nerve pain, fatigue, and an abrupt end to our season. Now it’s Beacon’s turn with recovery. Different circumstances, same truth: setbacks are part of the sport, and part of the journey.
Right now, it’s early days. We don’t yet have a final diagnosis or a long-term prognosis. Just a lot of disappointment, grief, and the anxiety of not knowing what the future holds.
Injuries bring a different kind of weight than a bad run or a missed goal.
They open the door for second-guessing:
Did I push too hard?
Miss something subtle?
Could I have prevented this?
That loop is exhausting, and it can pull focus from what actually matters: the choices we make next.
Recovery Is Performance Work
Recovery isn’t “time off.” In human sport, it’s an “expected” phase of performance, designed to give tissues time to heal, restore function, and rebuild capacity before returning to full load. The same applies to dogs:
- Protect the injury immediately to prevent further damage.
- Track progress with both objective measures (gait, range of motion, swelling) and subjective signs (comfort, willingness to move).
- Increase load gradually, matching exercise to tissue healing guidelines.
- Let data, not deadlines, guide decisions.
Data as a Lifeline
This is where data can become a lifeline. Tracking changes in movement, behaviour, and comfort levels gives us something solid to hold onto when the timeline feels uncertain. Numbers, patterns, and observations help replace “I hope” with “I know.”
Small Wins in the Quiet Spaces
Beacon’s pause is a pivot point. While we wait for answers, we’ll shift to engagement and relationship games, build foundational strength and conditioning (when it’s safe to do so), and keep her mind and body active in ways that support healing. These aren’t filler activities. They’re part of protecting her future in sport, whatever that future ends up looking like.
There’s a silver lining in that. Small wins found in quiet spaces. The chance to put the science of recovery into practice. The reminder that these moments of work still matter… even if they never show up on a results sheet.
B and I Both Need Your Help
This week, I’m giving myself permission to sit with the disappointment and grief. They’re real, and they matter. But they don’t get to derail our journey. The priority now is slow, deliberate, evidence-based work that protects Beacon’s (and my) physical, emotional, and mental health.
Research in both sport and psychology shows that social connection can help ease grief, steady us in uncertain times, and give us strength to keep going when motivation runs low. I’ve shared those findings before as a coach and a scientist. Today, I’m sharing them as someone who needs them.
So this week, we both need your support. Not just strategies, but presence. Your stories. Reminders that this stretch of road has been walked before and that it can still lead somewhere good.
I know how to write the plan; I need you to help me carry it. ❤️🩹🐾
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