When the world is feeling like its all too much, there are always dogs...

Back in 2022, Shancy joined the Trainee Programme, since then Shancy has worked as a Barista, continues to volunteer locally in Peckham and has worked part time for us for the 18 months! 

Shancys dream job is to be a published writer, so we asked her to write a peice that encapulates her journey with us.

It’s 7am as I write this, the sun just beginning to peep its head over the plain trees in the park across the street. Today marks an important day, yet it’s beginning the same as any other over the last 4 years. In some ways, that’s reassuring in itself; no matter the turbulence in life, another day will dawn the same as any other, like all the days that before it and all the ones that will follow. I think that’s one of the most important things I’ve learnt over the last 4 years - a bad day is simply that, just a bad day out of 7 potential good ones. I say that with such ease now, but I think the Shancy of 4 years ago wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said.

I’ve always been good at hiding how I’m truly feeling, a smokescreen of jokes and smiles that don’t quite reach the corner of my eyes. It’s easy to hide from humans, dogs on the other hand? They can smell sadness, the chemical changes in our bodies give off distinctive smells that dogs can detect. So I guess I was always destined to fail at hiding forever. I remember that first day, I stood across the park willing my anxiety to settle, clutching onto a coffee cup to hide the trembling in my fingers. 

Approaching that pink fence, and seeing those inquisitive eyes and wet noses poking through the gaps to get a sniff, I remember thinking “well, if it all goes wrong at least someone was pleased to see me.” 

Spoiler alert, it didn’t go wrong; quite the opposite in fact,  met two of my closest friends that first day, Amy who’d just started as a trainee the week before (we laugh at this now, how lost we looked, how we looked to each other for reassurance and how we were friends almost  almost instantaneously) and Rolo, the anxious spaniel who’s been a stalwart of Paws for years at this point.

I remember the feeling of a wet nose against my elbow, looking down there he was, in all his chocolate-caramel coloured glory, regarding me with his big orangey eyes, seeking reassurance. I guess he must have found it, for not a moment later he had climbed into my lap, laid his head on my shoulder and went to sleep. I sat there stock-still, Rolo’s warm breath against my neck while he slept; in that moment I felt a sense of calm wash over me; if this animal – who has never met me and was wary of strangers, felt that I was a safe space, then perhaps, despite all my own beliefs it may be true. 

Throughout my time on the programme, I learnt more about dogs’ body language and breeds which eventually helped me identify those who needed just a little extra re-assurance. What I didn’t quite expect, was being able to identify it in the humans too.  Admittedly, I missed a fair few of the workshops at the beginning because the idea of being in a room full of humans was far more terrifying to me than being with a group of dogs! But through some gentle coaxing and reassurance, I found myself able to attend these too! We learnt many different techniques to cope with our anxiety and built a framework that would eventually lead us to be able to apply for work in the future; something that, for a lot of people who struggle with our mental health, it often feels like an impossible feat.

 But Paws and Pause don’t look at it that way, for the team, mental health is a subject we have always been actively encouraged to talk about, making it less of a stigma and forever feeling like perhaps we aren’t as alone as our brains like to tell us we are.  

If you told the Shancy of 2022 that she would be working for Pause and Paws as a paid member or staff helping other people just like her, have had her articles published in the newsletter (and their annual report!), appeared on BBC news live on camera, and also have her own pet sitting service that runs soley on word of mouth, she probably would have rolled her eyes. 

I wish I could go back to that girl now and remind her that it’s ok for it all to fall apart as long as you know it’s all going to fit back together again. Japan have a term for repairing beautiful things that are broken - Kintsugi. In English it translates to “to repair with gold”, broken shards of pottery re-joined together with gold coated lacquer. That’s how I see myself these days, a complete version of a whole, still cracked and sometimes fragile but the pieces put back in their place. I came to Paws and Pause with a handful of shards of myself, unsure, and with trembling hands – and they helped me put the pieces back together. The gold? That was all me, my hard work and determination to get my sparkle back. I wish I could tell the Shancy of 2022 how golden she is now and with how, at the end of a bad day, there’s always a new day just waiting to dawn. That there is no shame in letting people in, and, most importantly, when the world starts feeling like its all too much, there are always dogs.

Love - Shancy xxx