When Puppyhood Ends: Surviving the Storm of Adolescence

Last time, I shared the innocence of Earn’s puppy days — full of foundations, fun, and learning (for both of us). But puppies don’t stay puppies for long. And when adolescence hit, it felt like a storm rolled into our lives.

Adolescence is messy. Hormones change, brains rewire, and suddenly that sweet puppy who followed you everywhere seems to forget everything you’ve ever taught them. Add in the chaos of my own life at the time — the shouting, the abuse, the stress — and Earn didn’t stand a chance at an easy ride through her teenage stage.

What Went Wrong

I thought more was better. More walks, more runs, more activity. In reality, what Earn desperately needed was more rest and calm.

She was overtired, her stress bucket was overflowing, and that was the perfect recipe for reactivity. Barking at people, lunging at dogs, spinning on the lead. And me? I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I shouted, I yanked her back, I panicked. I thought she was being “bad” when really, she was begging for help.

Walks became a battle. I hid behind cars, crossed the road, walked at 5am or 11pm just to avoid dogs. Almost every outing ended in about-turns and tears.

Earn had always been timid from birth (her mum was moved to a barn late pregnancy) but in adolescence — mixed with my stress and my mistakes — it turned into full-blown reactivity.

The Turning Point

The biggest change wasn’t a training technique — it was leaving the abusive situation I was in.

Once Earn and I were in a calmer environment, I started to see her more clearly. She didn’t need more miles — she needed more sleep. A safe den. Shorter walks. Scent games. Understanding adolescence as a normal stage, not a disaster.

That’s when I discovered Distraction/Marker Training (DMT) and the power of scent work.

We trained in B&Q car parks, outside pubs, anywhere men were likely to be — facing triggers in tiny, controlled doses. I learnt to breathe, to sing to her softly, to stroke the lead instead of gripping it tight.

Slowly, her confidence grew the more she trusted that I wouldn't put her in situations that were too much for her. So did mine.

What Helped Us

More rest, less “doing.” Sleep is medicine for adolescent dogs.

Calm spaces. A safe den where she could truly relax.

Scent work. Easy, enriching, low-pressure activities.

Controlled setups. Meeting dogs walking the same way, never head-on.

Emotional regulation. I learnt to try to manage my stress so I didn’t add to hers.

Compassion. Seeing her reactivity not as “naughty” but as communication.

A Message for Anyone Living With a Reactive Teen

If you’re in the thick of it right now — I see you. I’ve been there, sobbing behind parked cars, wishing walks could just be simple.

Here’s what I know now:

Adolescence is temporary, even if it feels endless.

Your dog isn’t broken.

More exercise isn’t always the answer. Rest, calmness, and sniffing can change everything.

You can get through this together.

Earn didn’t turn into a “perfect” dog — but she grew into a dog who trusted me, and I into an owner who finally understood her. That was worth every about-turn, every early morning, every shaky breath.

✨ Next time: building confidence and connection in adulthood — the stage where everything finally began to click.