Lessons in Change: What February Has Taught Me About Growth and Resilience

From unexpected challenges to life lessons, here's how a month of chaos with my dog, Lola, reminded me that change is messy and unpredictable—but always a chance to grow.

February started out smoothly enough. Warm days, long walks, and the comforting rhythm of routine. But then, just as I was settling into the month, life decided to throw in a plot twist.

It started with an insect. Maybe a bee. Lola either got stung by one or swallowed one—I’ll never know. What I do know is that within seconds, her eyes puffed up, her body erupted in hives, her whole face doubled in size, and before I could fully process what was happening, she was vomiting. One moment, she was her usual playful self, the next, I was grabbing my keys and bolting out the door to the vet. An injection of antihistamines later, and thankfully by the next day, she was back to her normal, waggy-tailed self. Crisis averted. Phew.

I thought that would be February’s big moment. But I was wrong.

The next weekend, the weather was too good to waste. We loaded up the kayak, grabbed the ball, and headed to one of our favourite spots—a place in the bush along the Yarra River where the world slows down, where Lola can be Lola, racing into the water, digging in the sand, chasing after her ball like it’s the most important mission in the world.

Only this time, something went wrong.

She swam out, strong and steady as always. But then, in an instant, she started thrashing. She let out a cry—a sound that cut through me, pure panic and pain. I ran into the water, heart in my throat, convinced she was drowning. That her foot was caught in something.

She made it to shore, limping and whimpering. That’s when I saw it. A deep, ugly gash across the top of her foot. Blood mixing with the sand.

Shock. Panic. Action.

Luckily, my son was with me, and so was a stranger—one of those rare, good people who show up exactly when you need them. Together, we bandaged her up, did our best to stop the bleeding, and rushed off to the emergency vet.

That should have been the end of it. But of course, February's antics weren’t quite done with me yet. Seems I had more to learn.

That night, as I re-bandaged her foot, I made a mistake. Wrapped it too tight. By 4:30 a.m., Lola was whining, restless. When I finally let her into bed, I saw it—her foot was swollen to twice its normal size. My stomach dropped.

I was fully awake in an instant, hands fumbling to undo the bandage, my mind racing with guilt. How could I have done that?

Another trip to the vet. This time, staples in the wound and clear instructions for how to protect the wound.

What February Taught Me

As much as we like to think we have things figured out, we never really know what’s around the corner or what lurks beneath the surface. You could be paddling along, enjoying the view, and then—suddenly—you’re hit with something unexpected.

You think you know, but you don’t always. We predict, we plan, we assume things will go a certain way. But life has its own way of keeping us on our toes.

Be prepared for anything to go wrong. Not in a pessimistic way, but in a way that acknowledges that challenges are inevitable. The only certainty is uncertainty.

And when it does go wrong? You’re more capable than you think. When Lola cried out in the water, when her foot swelled up in the middle of the night, I didn’t have a plan. But I figured it out. Because we always do.

Take the help of other people when they offer it. Whether it’s a stranger stepping in to help or a vet reassuring you that you didn’t completely mess up, life isn’t meant to be done alone.

Life is full of challenges we have to deal with. Some are small, like a bee sting. Others leave scars. But every challenge shapes us in some way.

And most importantly, life is precious. The wag of a tail, the weight of a sleeping dog at your feet, the way they look at you with absolute trust—even after you’ve messed up. These are the moments that remind you what really matters.

Change is like this, too. Messy. Unpredictable. Sometimes painful. But every experience—every challenge, every mistake, every moment of panic—teaches us something.

And through it all, we grow.

Stay safe - Mel:)