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Attachment Weaponisation: The Bond Was Never an Accident

Attachment Weaponisation: The Bond Was Never an Accident I never noticed the closeness being built. I just assumed it was love, and assumed what I owed because of it, without either of us ever saying it out loud. Short version: Trauma bonding is usually described as something that happens to you, almost by accident, through unpredictable reward. A 2025 Cambridge study, interviewing eighteen women with sustained attachment to abusive partners, found something sharper underneath that: the closeness itself is often deliberately constructed early on, specifically so it can be exploited later. Researchers call this attachment weaponisation. The unsettling part is that it isn't always obvious while it's happening. It can feel completely organic, right up until you realise how much invisible obligation got built into it along the way. What is attachment weaponisation? A 2025 study led by researchers at the University of Cambridge, published in the journal Violence Aga...
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Saturday Morning According to My Dog!

Saturday Morning According to My Dog!

Saturday Morning (According to My Dog)

A funny, honest, dog’s-eye view of lazy weekends and questionable human decisions.
Posted · 2 min read

“Mum, it’s Saturday morning.” We went to the pub last night and met so many dogs. You said we were just going for one. You lied.

He’s looking at me like I hold the answers to the universe (and all the snacks). I’ve already achieved two miracles: got up and made tea. I’ve also committed one betrayal: I opened my phone.

“Just let me out for a wee. I’m sitting in my basket, RC* aimlessly. What are we doing today? Is it roast dinner day? Walk? Back to the pub for more dog gossip?”

(*RC = Really Contemplative. Also, probably hungry.)

He watches my tea. He watches me scroll. He knows the rules: if I open the fridge, there’s hope; if I put the kettle on again, it’s doom. He’s planning his Saturday like a hungover little life coach:

  • 09:00 — Assess human. Still in dressing gown? Check.
  • 09:20 — Apply face-to-knee pressure until tea is shared.
  • 10:15 — Walk probability: 63%. Increases to 89% if “pub” is mentioned.
  • 13:00 — Roast smell patrol. Strategic napping by oven.

Saturdays are chaos wrapped in comfort. Maybe we’ll walk. Maybe we’ll roast. Maybe we’ll just sit in our pyjamas pretending this was the plan. Either way, he’s watching — silently judging, eternally hopeful, and slightly hungover by association.

And honestly, same.

So if you’re reading this with a cup of tea and a pair of expectant eyes staring at you — go make the roast, take the walk, or pour another cuppa. Your dog has already forgiven your bad decisions. Probably.
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P.S. If your dog writes a better blog post than this, please submit it via tail wag only.

Tags: Dogs, Saturday, Weekend Humour, Relatable Life
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