Forget Little Red Riding Hood. I have been saved by a wolf.

“How did you manage to grow your confidence and improve your work-life balance?”.

I was on stage, in London, at an important European conference about advertising, hosted as a speaker by Amazon, with a live streaming of my interview.

My speech was about female leadership and role models and, for some reason, I did not expect this question. But I had to answer fast. They had an audience watching live. So, without thinking, I just blurted out the truth: “I adopted a feral wolf-dog and it took me 9 months to tame her.”

The host, Riyadh Khalaf, must have thought it was a rather weird answer. He changed the subject shortly after.

But it was the truth. Apart from the wolf part, that was a simplification: Yoko is a mix of primitive breeds, but the audience of Advertising Week was probably not the right one to explain the evolution of breeds (or to discuss dogs at all, apparently).

Yoko was rescued from a French puppy mill. She was held there in a cage in the dark, waiting to become of age to breed. She has a gorgeous wolfy look, which makes you feel like a Game of Thrones Queen of the North when you walk next to her. We don’t know if she was born there or bought from eastern Europe, but we assume she spent most of her first year in this cage, until she was rescued by French police.

Self-care first

I had been living in Paris for a couple of years, having moved there in 2015 from Milan. I was overworking myself: I thought that, since I had landed a big job, I had to prove to everyone I deserved it by overdelivering all the time. In January 2018, I felt that I had reached my limits, and I committed to change my lifestyle. I promised myself that if, and only if, I had proven to better care for my mind and my body, I could consider adopting a dog, my lifelong dream. If I was not able to take care of myself, for sure I could not take care of anyone else, not even a dog.

Motivated by my dream, that year I got to run two 10k races, meditate consistently, eat healthily, spend time in Bali doing yoga, and finally enjoy the marvelous city where I was living.

I was ready for the big step. Yet, I had no idea how unprepared I was.

At the end of November 2018 I showed up at a Christmas adoption fair, Noël des Bêtes, organised by the French rescue association Fondation Assistance Aux Animaux in Paris.

Yoko was in a tiny cage, eyes wide open, not barking but shaking, surrounded by many people. She was a gorgeous one-year-old dog and many people were interested in her. When a volunteer brought her out of the cage, surrounded by a little crowd, she went straight between my legs. She chose me.

That day, our life together began.

Life together

But it was not simple. Yoko was not getting close to me, it was impossible to put her on a leash and unthinkable to go outside. She was standing in a corner of the room, frozen, panting and shaking for most of the time. I had zero experience with dogs and at first, I thought it was my fault. I didn’t know what to do. How do dogs work? Wasn’t she supposed to curl up next to me? Look for treats? Run after balls? What was happening?

So, I looked for a vet and a trainer. I was still a foreigner in a new city and nobody I knew had pets. I found contacts on Facebook groups. This first vet prescribed some calming drugs, while the trainer proposed a choking collar. I was not comfortable with either solution, it didn’t feel right in my gut, but at the same time, I was no expert. I was quite lost. Did I have the right to question their recommendations on a topic I knew nothing about?

After a few weeks of inquiry, I finally found someone recognized as ‘the best behavioral vet in France’. A professional who worked with magazines and was often interviewed on TV shows. She had a waiting list of two months and a super expensive fee, but I thought it was worth it as my efforts with Yoko were going nowhere.

Her visit was short. The diagnosis was “severe sensory deprivation syndrome” with no prognosis. This means, simply speaking, that as Yoko had only ever lived in a cage, she was completely overwhelmed by the world. Her final recommendation: “You will be never able to manage this dog. Give it to me and I’ll bring her to the countryside in the house of a friend, while you get on with your life.”

I was lost and shocked, but I am also stubborn. And a hard worker. And an overachiever. I didn’t want to follow her recommendation, as it didn’t feel right.

I thought that at least I had a lead. I started studying all the scientific papers I could find about ‘Sensory deprivation syndrome in dogs’. By chance, I stumbled upon a paper written by an Italian vet, Giacomo Riggio (@thevetbehaviorist). He had successfully tested a therapy pattern to solve this issue with some dogs in Italy.

I called several vet clinics in Rome until I managed to get ahold of him.

My request might have sounded quite bizarre to his ears: “My dog has been diagnosed as impossible to cure by an esteemed colleague of yours, yet I don’t believe this is correct and I would like to work at it with you. By the way, I live in Paris with the dog.”

It took us nine months. Nine months of at least 60 mins of training every single day.

Nine months in which Yoko was not able to leave my building, nor to be approached by anyone. Nine months in which I had to give up on holidays and Christmas with my family in Italy, since Yoko was not only unable to travel but also to cross the front door. Nine months in which my apartment was off limits to anyone but me, as Yoko was growling at everyone.

It was bloody hard, but we were making progress over time. I tracked everything in a notebook, to remember the subtle daily changes and not be upset about the recurrent fallbacks. I learned that improvement is not a linear pattern and that it is crucial to enjoy all the small victories, to get the energy to face the inevitable failures.

Also, the commitment to train her forced me to get back home daily at decent hours and dedicate my attention to something other than work, shifting my priorities and detaching me emotionally from my job. Surprisingly (not in hindsight), this was the moment in which I had the fastest progression in my career.

We finally managed to leave the apartment at the beginning of September 2019. Giacomo, the amazing behavioral vet, had flown in from Rome just to make it happen.

I have only a blurred picture of that day: us three, finally in the car together at 5am, heading to an empty park outside of Paris.

Yoko has been improving constantly over time. We traveled together to Italy, she met my family and had a great time in the Italian Alps in the snow. She loves her pet sitter and her dog best friend, Leo.
She will never be a ‘normal’ dog, but I don’t mind because she is amazing as she is.

But most of all, she helped me grow. I am a better person and a better professional since I have her in my life. In fact, she is the one who rescued me.