Training Willow with ADHD: Finding Focus in the Chaos

I’ve always struggled with focus. ADHD means my brain is constantly jumping from one thing to another—one minute I’m working on the Bean website, the next I’m knee-deep in some random side project I didn’t even plan to start. It’s like a never-ending cycle of "Oh yeah, I need to do that too."

But when I’m training Willow, it’s different. It’s one of the few times my brain actually stays in the moment.

Willow’s ADHD Energy is Off the Charts

She’s got ADHD, too. No doubt about it. She sees a bird? Gone. A squirrel? Faster than the speed of light. A leaf? Somehow, still a valid reason to sprint.

But she’s smart as hell. She’s learned so many commands—

• Back (for when she’s too close to a curb)
• Rollies (for belly rubs but also drying her paws—double purpose commands are key)
• Listen (my favourite—she sits, stares into my soul, and actually waits for what I have to say)
• Paw, give, drop (standard but necessary)
• Go on, walk on, come (movement and recall)
• Off (because sometimes she really needs to get off whatever she’s climbing on)

She even knows the difference between "last one" and "LAST ONE." And she chooses to ignore both.

Training Her is Like a Mental Reset

When I’m working on Bean, social media, or just trying to juggle life, it’s overwhelming. The engagement we’ve had recently? Unreal. People actually love what we’ve built, which is amazing—but also a lot to take in. It’s weird when something you’ve put so much effort into actually works.

That’s why training Willow is different. There’s no overthinking, no tweaking, no constant revisions—it’s just doing. You see results straight away. And when I’m out with her, I don’t have time to spiral into a million thoughts.

That’s why I walk home from the woods still wearing my head torch, completely forgetting it’s on. The neighbours must think I’m mad. But in that moment? I don’t care.

The People Who Keep Me Grounded

It’s not just Willow. It’s Benjamin too. We’ll be on the phone while he’s home in Warrington, talking about his day. Sometimes Piper joins in, and it makes me feel less alone, even if I’m technically by myself.

Then there’s my family-who-are-also-my-friends and my friends-who-are-also-my-family—Maxiie, my sister, but also one of my closest friends. Kim, my friend, but also my sister in every way that matters. Piper, my niece, but honestly? She’s still a mate.

ADHD makes your brain feel like a runaway train, but these people (and Willow) help slow it down. They make things make sense.

What Willow Has Taught Me

Patience. Simple as that.

I’ve always been the kind of person who wants results now. But with Willow, I’ve learned that things take time. Whether it’s training, business, or life in general, you can’t rush everything.

And sometimes, you just need to sit back, take a breath, and watch your dog store her prized stick in a tree—because she knows exactly where it is, and she’ll be back for it later.

You Feel It Too, Don’t You?

This whole idea of slowing down and embracing the chaos inspired me to design something that represents that mindset.

👕 Thinking of dropping a tee based on this. Wanna see it happen? Head over to Threads and vote on the poll!

📲 Vote here: Go vote

Because honestly, sometimes you just need to take a breath and exist.