This is how I realized my dog was in pain: a story of getting curious about your dog’s “bad behavior”
About a year ago, in early 2024, my 8 year old dog JJ started doing a behavior that I called “2pm yelling.”
Here’s what she was doing:
She would wake up from her morning nap around 2 pm (normal) and vocalize at me for what I assumed was attention and mental enrichment (also normal for her).
JJ has always been a very vocal dog, and is very good at communicating with me when she has an unmet need.
I could have chalked this up to “JJ being JJ,” but it became increasingly obvious that her afternoon vocalizing behavior was “worsening”.
These are some of the things that tipped me off:
1. Inability to Settle
She’d move from room to room, trying to find a comfy spot, only to end up changing spots again minutes later. If she did stay in one spot, she didn’t fully sleep.
2. Struggling to Self-Soothe
JJ’s favorite decompression activities - like grabbing toys or ripping paper up - didn’t seem to help her calm down. Instead, she would dig in my office trash, rip up sticky notes and granola bar wrappers, and then vocalize some more.
3. My Usual Strategies Stopped Working
My usual methods for meeting JJ’s needs also weren’t helping. I would give her a snack, play with her, do a training game, take her to sniff outside, put lofi music on, and still - she would “yell” at me for the rest of the afternoon.
I often tell students that a major indicator of possible pain is a new or sudden change in behavior.
And that’s exactly what I was seeing in JJ’s behavior.
So, I started looking at JJ’s “2pm yelling” behavior as a possible symptom of pain. And once I opened Pandora’s box of “Oh shit, I think my dog is in pain,” I started to notice a lot of other “small things.”
These were other behaviors or symptoms that didn’t necessarily concern me on their own… Combined, though, these things all gave me the sense that something “just wasn’t right”.
Here’s what I noticed:
Hesitancy with meals: JJ, who has always been food-obsessed, began to hesitate to eat her breakfast.
Noise sensitivity: JJ became more reactive to sounds she’d usually ignore or had made positive progress with in the past.
Changes in hair pattern: Sometimes the hairs on her lower back pointed in different directions, and she developed a patch of hair on her tail that was always “puffed up.”
Eating grass: Historically JJ has eaten grass when she has an upset tummy, but she had been eating more lately.
Funky gait: One of her legs seemed to lag behind when she moved, and she would do this odd vertical “bunny hop” when running.
So… then what?
I had my hypothesis: I think JJ is in some type of pain or discomfort.
There were two things that I did next:
I created a simple Google form to track how often JJ’s most notable symptoms were happening.
And I made an appointment with my vet to discuss starting JJ on a “pain trial.”
If you aren’t familiar, a pain trial involves prescribing pain relief medication temporarily to see if it impacts the symptoms the dog is showing. If the symptoms decrease, it can indicate that the behavior changes were likely pain-related.
Here’s what JJ’s data collection form looked like:
If I saw one of these behaviors, I would open this page on my phone, select yes, and submit the form
It’s not the prettiest or most optimized data collection strategy in the world, but it got me tracking behaviors, and that’s what’s important.
I recorded baseline data for a month before the pain trial, and then continued to record JJ’s symptoms after the pain trial started.
If the data showed a decrease in symptoms after starting the pain trial, that could mean that a) those symptoms were in fact related to pain and b) the treatment reduced JJ’s pain. But what if JJ’s symptoms didn’t decrease with a pain trial?
That could have meant that:
Those symptoms weren’t related to pain
The treatment used for the pain trial didn’t adequately treat the type of pain/discomfort that JJ was experiencing
Luckily for us and JJ…
We saw a decrease in all three of the symptoms I tracked!
JJ’s afternoon “yelling” had almost entirely stopped.
Grass eating happened rarely.
The bunny hopping had nearly disappeared.
Learning that your dog is in pain isn’t great news, of course, but what was great was that the pain trial had improved her quality of life.
There is one major thing that I learned last year as I navigated this process with JJ:
I can trust my gut.
The initial behavior changes and other signs of JJ’s pain were subtle. They were also easy enough to dismiss individually, if I hadn’t been looking at the whole picture. And honestly, there were a few people who didn’t quite believe me that something was going on. Here’s the thing, though:
I know my dog better than anyone else on this Earth. I spend more time with her than anyone else.
I didn’t always have the ability to verbalize what exactly was going on, but I knew in my gut that something wasn’t right.
I’m so glad that I collected objective data about her behavior to validate my instincts. It helped me advocate for JJ’s care - and remember to trust myself when doubts crept in.
And it’s okay to trust your instincts, even if the signs are subtle or you don’t have concrete data. You know your dog best, and if something feels “off”, it’s worth exploring and bringing up to your veterinarian.
P.S. Enjoyed this article and want a little something extra?
Download our Big Feelings Dog Checklist to get practical, low-key tips you can start using right away to support your dog. It’s full of our favorite simple strategies to help your dog feel safer and more at ease.
