You Don’t Have to Fix It All

Releasing the Pressure We Carry to be Perfect for Our Animals

Jul 26, 2025

Let me start by sharing something about myself. I’m a recovering helicopter dog mom. Truly. I used to stand with my feet straddling my tiny dog, Cooper, while he was trying to take a potty break, anxiously scanning the sky and bushes. Is that a hawk? What are you eating? What are you smelling? Is that a coyote? My mind raced with fear, trying to protect him from every possible danger. That’s how tightly I was clinging to control and how deep in my own anxiety spiral I had gotten. With every step he took, I was scanning for a thousand ways he could get hurt, or worse. My brain was on worst-case-scenario mode 24/7. Hyper-vigilance like that is an exhausting way to live. It dysregulates our nervous systems, and guess what… it’s not great for our animals either.

Maybe you’ve been there too.

Lately, I’ve been noticing this big undercurrent of anxiety — in myself, in clients, online, just everywhere. It’s swelling and gurgling just below the surface, and the air feels heavier. Have you ever felt anxious and you’re not even sure why? Like you’re bracing for something but can’t quite put your finger on it? That could be yours or it might be collective energy, or something you’re picking up from someone around you. Whatever the source, it has a ripple effect in our lives. I see this all the time with sensitive folks, and especially with pet parents. Even the most grounded people I know are feeling a little off.

When that uneasiness mixes with the deep love we have for our animals, it can get overwhelming fast. Suddenly, your pet’s tiniest sneeze or subtle shift in behavior feels like an emergency. I’ve been there. It’s exhausting and we weren’t meant to carry all of this alone.

So this week, I wanted to write a love letter to those of us who carry too much. Who try to fix it all. Who spiral late at night wondering if we’re doing enough for our pets or worse, doing too much and somehow making things worse.

I’ve been in that spiral. And while I don’t live there anymore, I still visit sometimes. These days, I feel more free-range than frantic. And I want to share what’s helped me soften, shift, and settle.

Every time I see Copper and Wishbone sitting together I feel this wave of peace and gratitude wash over me. A few years ago, they wouldn’t have been able to sit even half that close without tension or a fight. It feels like witnessing a quiet miracle.

From Overwhelm to

Over-Attuned

Our animals are so deeply connected to our energy. They’re like little tuning forks, picking up on everything we feel, think, and suppress. When we’re stuck in hyper-vigilance (stressed, anxious, or trying to control every little thing) our animals pick up on it, too

It’s not your fault. You love deeply. You care with your whole heart. But sometimes, the best thing we can do for our animals is take a step back, breathe, and say: I don’t have to fix this.

Because you don’t. And honestly? Sometimes you can’t.

Helicopter Tales

Cooper is my little chihuahua and an unexpected soul pup. I was used to big dogs, and here was this little guy who loved to run off and it gave me a full-blown panic attack every time he did. He seemed so tiny and vulnerable. My solution? I hovered over him. I micromanaged his potty breaks. I tried to control everything.

Then a couple of years later, in came Arya and Denny, two puppies who turned Cooper’s world upside down. Suddenly, he had food aggression. He was tense and angry. I was panicked, especially at mealtime. I tried separating them, hovering, fixing… but it just got worse. Arya is a Great Pyrenees, so my biggest fear was that she would unintentionally hurt him in one of their food fights. This was a legitimate fear, but I knew my constant obsession with it was not helping. I worked with a trainer who finally told me that I was a big part of the problem. My energy, my stress, my fear were creating more tension. He trained me to be calm and assertive. That worked on the surface, but I still had this fear deep in my belly.

Several years later, when Wishbone joined the pack, Cooper’s old patterns returned: snapping, guarding, anxiety. And so did my panic. I could no longer contain it to the lump I would feel in my gut or the occasional visuals my imagination would display. But by this point, I was starting to do the deeper healing work. I was learning how to shift my energy and visualize what I wanted instead of what I feared.

As humans, we often see in detail what we don’t want, and that picture goes out to our animals. They get the message but don’t make the distinction that this is what I don’t want. Like when you say "don’t go on the couch" and turn around to find them on the couch (classic example of unintentionally sending the wrong picture — this is animal communication in action). You want to show them what you do want. In this case, I wanted a peaceful dinner time, and I wanted everyone to be able to sit on the couch together afterward.

We began making feeding time feel like a game instead of like a battlefield. All the dogs were included in it. I would dance and sing and they would howl and bark. This shifted me out of anxiety and fear, creating a safe and fun vibe at dinnertime.

And over time things started to change between Cooper and Wishbone. Because when I changed, it gave them the space they needed to just be dogs. They no longer had to carry the burden of my human anxiety and fears. Dinner is no longer scary and they actually sleep together.

Denny, Cooper, Piper, and Wishbone— all sleeping on the couch peacefully. I remember seeing them together like this for the first time I noticed that pit of fear in my gut had been replaced with a feeling of love, hope, and possibilities.

The Energy We Carry

Chronic anxiety doesn’t just drain us emotionally, it affects our bodies and our animals’ bodies too. The stress hormone cortisol can lead to inflammation, digestive issues, and lowered immunity. In animals, this can show up as skin problems, GI symptoms, behavioral changes, or what looks like chronic illness.

That’s why the work I do now focuses so much on energy, not just for the animals, but for the humans too. Through things like animal communication, energy healing, and EFT (tapping), we can begin to unwind the tension. We make space for calm. For clarity. For connection without control.

And it works. I’ve seen it again and again. When we regulate ourselves, our animals respond. When we come back to center, they often do too.

You’re Not Alone

You don’t have to carry it all.
You don’t have to do this perfectly.
You’re allowed to ask for help.
And you’re definitely allowed to take a breath.

That’s what I want this space to be. A place for sensitive souls and the animals they love. A space where we can be real, curious, supported, and gently guided.

When Maisy died unexpectedly a few months ago, it all came rushing back. I started waking up multiple times a night, panicked, checking if my dogs and cats were still breathing. They were peacefully asleep, but my body didn’t trust it. I could feel the knot in my gut, the constant sense of dread.

I understand that I was processing the trauma of finding Maisy already gone. And it wasn’t until I named it and called it out, that I started to find my way back to myself.

Even though I’m professionally trained and certified in EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique), I hadn’t been using it much over the past year. For some reason, I’d been resisting it. But this grief pulled me back in.

The silver lining is that when I started tapping again, I felt real relief. I remembered just how powerful this tool is. I tapped with Noodle, my cat who was deeply grieving Maisy’s loss too. Then, I used it again to support my dogs through summer thunderstorms. Which brought me back to using it to support the animals of others.

The truth is, even if we do everything “right,” we don’t always get the why. Sometimes their soul just knows it’s time. That’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to sit with.

But having tools like EFT has helped me hold space for that discomfort without spinning out in it. And each time I come back to the present moment, I feel Maisy there. Not as something to fix or figure out, but as a teacher. She’s still with me, just in a new way.

That’s the kind of support I want this space to offer too gentle, grounding, and real.

Keep an eye out next week. I’m putting together a little Zoom call all about EFT. I’ll share a demo, talk about how and when to use it for yourself and your animals, and answer your questions (I’ve gotten a lot since the 4th of July!).

And in the meantime...
I’d love to hear your helicopter parent confessions.
I know I’m not the only one. With love (and a bit more breathing room), Melissa

🔗 Join my private group here

Thank you so much for reading this post! Please let me know what you think.

For more pet health tips and other ways to connect:

I always want to empower you with information and support but I also want to be clear Disclaimer: This content is not a substitute for medical or veterinary care. It’s meant to support you with education and holistic tools, not replace professional advice. Please always consult with your vet or healthcare provider when needed.

Calming Creek

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