Lifeguard Off Duty

Nicole Johnson equates her dog’s need to play lifeguard at the pool to her own need to protect her children.

His nerves kick in as soon as he sees us pulling our bathing suits on. His name is Earl, and he is our 7-year-old mini Labradoodle. This guy is exceptionally — and sometimes annoyingly — intuitive. If he had an anxiety meter attached to his furry, twenty-pound frame, you would see the needle start its ascent as we made our way out to the patio, rise faster with each step we took toward the edge of the pool, and max out in the red zone the second our bodies slipped beneath the water. Sirens seem to go off in this guy’s head and he immediately goes ballistic, frantically running laps around the pool and barking nonstop.

Non. Stop.

Google tells me he is playing lifeguard. He is especially fixated on our 15-year-old daughter who has Down syndrome. She is an incredibly strong swimmer and has shown him nothing but courage and confidence in the seven years he’s been with us, yet somehow he understands there is a level of vulnerability with her that needs protecting. No one asked him to take the lead, but he has clearly appointed himself in charge.

We recently had a trainer come over to the house to help us learn how to keep Earl under control and comfortable while we are in the pool. The absolute chaos that ensued every time we tried to enjoy the pool was simply not a sustainable lifestyle for any of us.

What Good Is Discipline?

The first question the trainer asked when he arrived was, “how do you discipline your dog?” He was met with my blank stare. I think his exact words to follow were, “You mean to tell me your dog is seven years old and you’ve never disciplined him?”

Um …

In the course of sixty minutes, this guy changed everything for us. He started by showing me how to hold Earl tightly by getting him to sit between my legs with my thighs snug around his body, one hand holding his collar, and the other cupped around the bottom of his jaw, holding firmly enough to prevent him from barking.

Once I secured Earl in the hold, we started with my husband walking over to the edge of the pool. Earl immediately tensed, his body started to shake, and he began a loud whimper. I held tight and my husband jumped in. I didn’t let Earl move or bark, and my husband quickly exited the pool to show Earl he was OK. Earl eased, and I immediately loosened my hold and praised him. A few repetitions of this, and Earl quickly learned that his running around the pool barking was not what was keeping people safe in the water.

It’s been a few weeks now since our session with the trainer and Mr. Earl is doing significantly better poolside. He is still very present and alert to what is going on, but is learning to keep his opinions to himself.

While I don’t make a habit of comparing myself to my dog, I have to admit that I see more of myself in my furry friend than I’d like. His role as our self-appointed lifeguard draws an unfortunate parallel with my approach to parenting. Too often, I allow fear and anxiety to take the lead, leaving me running circles around my children, grasping for some sense of control that is neither necessary nor helpful.

Parenting Adult Children

Our three children are each on entirely different planets these days. Our oldest is adulting hard with graduation, first job, marriage, first baby, and first home all within the past few years. Our middle guy is entering his senior year of college and is more than ready to be done with school and start his next chapter. He knows where he wants to be, knows what he wants to be doing and who he wants to be with. He has put in the hard work and he’s ready—so ready—to see it all pay off. And then there is our feisty teenager who loves all things Disney and music and hides away in her room for much of the day basking in her independence.

It’s all good stuff — so good — and I’m exceptionally grateful. I’m also finding it increasingly difficult to know where I fit as they each move farther into a life that is uniquely theirs. For so many years, I knew my place was on that lifeguard stand and was ready to respond to any and all needs at a moment’s notice. Climbing down from my stoop is harder than I could have imagined.

Earl continues to be present and alert when people are in the pool, but I’d say his anxiety meter is at a comfortable shade of yellow. It seems I could really learn something from my furry companion. I don’t need to abandon the lifeguard stand altogether; I simply need to let myself be held by the One who was always meant to take the lead. My role is to be always disciplined in prayer, to love them well and to trust the rest to the One who loves them more than I ever could.

Share your thoughts with the Catholic Mom community! You'll find the comment box below the author's bio and list of recommended articles.

Copyright 2026 Nicole Johnson
Images: Canva