I was buying a red collar for my dog when a stranger leaned over and said only dogs that really need red collars should wear them. Before I could ask what she meant, she walked away. I stood there confused and embarrassed, her words echoing in my head.

At home, I looked it up and learned that red collars are sometimes used to signal that a dog needs space—because they’re fearful, reactive, or aggressive. My stomach dropped. Oswin wasn’t aggressive, just cautious around strangers. I wondered if the collar would make people see him as dangerous.

On our next walk, I noticed the change immediately. People crossed the street, pulled their kids closer, and avoided us. I felt anxious, and Oswin seemed to sense it. He started pulling and barking more than usual. The collar wasn’t just affecting others—it was affecting us. After talking to a friend who works with animals, I realized the collar wasn’t necessary. I switched back to Oswin’s old blue one, and the tension faded. Walks felt normal again.

A week later, I ran into the stranger at the pet store. Her name was Faye, and she explained she’d worked in dog rescue, where red collars were used as warnings. She hadn’t meant to scare me—just to help. We talked, laughed, and cleared the air.

That experience pushed me to enroll Oswin in obedience classes. Slowly, we both grew more confident. Eventually, we even joined a therapy dog program. Oswin now visits retirement homes, bringing comfort and smiles wherever he goes.

What started as an awkward comment became a turning point. I learned that small moments can change everything—and that growth often begins with discomfort. Sometimes, curiosity and kindness are all it takes to find a better path.