You know what I’m talking about.
That inner dog.
That beast we all have—or need to have.
The one that shows up when it’s time to perform, compete, dominate, or shine.
That big dog inside that doesn’t back down.
The one built for pressure, made for moments, and wired to win.

It’s that badass energy—not bad meaning reckless, but badass meaning powerful.
Like “I can do anything” powerful.
When it’s locked in, focused, and unleashed with purpose, it’s a real force.

But it’s not meant to run wild.

You’re supposed to train that energy.
Discipline it.
Walk it.
Work it out.
Teach it what to protect—and when to fall back.

Because when you don’t, that dog starts running the show.

Before the sun’s even up—before your feet even hit the floor—it might already be loose.
You go to feed it, and it’s gone.
Already snapping.
Already barking at strangers.
Maybe even the people you care about most.

Sometimes you don’t even notice until it’s too late.

You catch yourself irritated. Short. Defensive.
A sharp word here, a cold tone there.
You don’t know what set you off—but the dog’s out.
And now it’s trying to wreck the whole day.

That’s when you have to stop and remember:
You’re the master.

You have to call it back.
Put it on the leash.
Get it under control—before it does damage.
Because when the dog bites, somebody feels it.

Now you’re left with the aftermath.
The guilt. The silence.
The look in someone’s eyes that says, “I didn’t deserve that.”

And here’s the thing—some people carry that bite with them.
Some wounds don’t heal quick.
Every time they see you, they remember.
And some will tell others.

“Watch out… their dog bites.”


—

But let me say this—in the dog’s defense…

Sometimes people ignore boundaries that were clearly set.
You told them, “Hey, my dog doesn’t like that.”
“My energy doesn’t respond well to passive-aggressive comments.”
“My space needs to be respected.”
“My patience has limits.”

But they keep pushing.
They assume they’re different.
They think they can get away with more.
Like the rules don’t apply to them.
Like they’re special.
Or maybe they think they’re some kind of dog whisperer.

So they test you.
Keep poking.
Keep pressing.

And when the dog finally reacts—when the tone shifts, the bark comes out, the vibe flips—
Now they want to play victim.

But they were warned.

That’s the part people forget.
They remember the bite, but not the six red flags that came before it.
They remember your reaction, but not their persistence.

My dog is good.
Even trained dogs can be provoked.
Even calm people have limits.
And if you keep testing those limits, don’t be surprised when you finally get the version of them you were asking for.

Boundaries protect everyone—including the dog.
So when you cross that line and catch teeth, don’t act shocked.
That’s not on the dog.
That’s on the person who stepped past the fence.


—

Ways to Train Your Inner Dog

Training your inner dog doesn’t mean silencing it.
It means bonding with it. Strengthening the connection. Giving your fire direction—so it works with you, not against you.

Here are some powerful ways to keep your inner dog in shape:

Build a Routine – Structure keeps the dog focused. It gives your energy a job.

Move Your Body – Exercise, cardio, weight training—whatever keeps your body strong and your emotions balanced.

Practice Relaxation – Teach your dog to be calm. Stillness is strength, too.

Make Time for Joy – Play. Laugh. Do what lights you up. Let your dog enjoy the sunshine too.

Read and Learn Something New – Feed your mind. An engaged dog doesn’t get bored and destructive.

Pick Up a Hobby or Creative Outlet – Create something. It gives your energy purpose and builds pride.

Take Time for Yourself – Rest. Reflect. Recharge. A well-rested dog is more loyal and alert.


It’s not about control through fear—it’s about leadership through love and intention.


—

The Real Message

Your inner dog isn’t a flaw—it’s a feature.
It’s your loyalty. Your protection. Your hunger. Your edge.

But it’s your job to lead it.

Because when you train it right?
That dog becomes your strongest ally.

It will walk with you.
Guard your peace.
Fuel your purpose.
And grow into a force of focus, power, and calm.

I know my dog bites.
That’s why I move the way I do.
Not to be feared—
But to be respected.

It’s still a good dog.
It just needed a leader.