Belonging to the "Dog Owners Club"

 Belonging to "The Dog Owner's Club" (Responsible Pet Ownership)

When you become a dog owner, either for the first time or the 10th, you automatically belong to a select group: "The Dog Owner's Club." You find doggy poop bags in the dangdest places: in your work pants, in every jacket or sweater you own, in your pants pockets, on the dining room or coffee table. You know what I mean. 

You also become someone who goes outside in the morning, hair and teeth unbrushed and clothing thrown on higglepigglety to bring your little friend out to do their morning "bidness." You find yourself walking your pal at 6:30 in the morning and at midnight. Every walk is an adventure for your buddy, with him or her straining at the leash to sniff the scent they must have smelled fifty times before, more like them walking you than the alternative. Sometimes, intuitively, you and other dog owners avoid each other with a nod or a muffled grunt. Sometimes, you meet and greet each other with a list of your pet's accomplishments or a sharing of their history. You find places near home that you never even knew existed, and meet people that you have never met before. And their pets, of course. You get to know the pet's names before your learn the owner's names, but that's ok, because they are doing the same thing! You become Charlie's Mommy or Daddy!

You also time your activities away from home: "Should we go to the casino after the show? Or should we go shopping first at this place and then at that place before going home?" "Well, Charlie will have been alone for 6 hours by that time, and it's when he normally has to go poop, so..." Spontaneous vacations become a thing of the past (mind you, those of us who have never been able to afford them anyway aren't missing much, are we?). Trips to friends' houses become an adventure. You are on a very different schedule, all of a sudden. Even walking out of the door becomes a trick equivalent to Houdini escaping the water chamber, if you're not taking your pup out with you!

You become one of "those" people...

If you have been parents, you recognize this as similar to having a child. Only, instead of diapers in your pockets, nuks and baby toys underfoot, you have poop bags, dog treats and dog toys to trip over. You worry about feeding schedules, read labels more carefully to see if "meat" comes first on the label instead of fillers, much as you did the contents of your child's baby food jars. You worry about bowel movements, their behavior: "Charlie isn't very active today, do you think he's feeling ok? He did a little barf outside on the walk. What do you think he got into to?" "I'm not sure. I'll check the floor and see if I can find anything..."

When you are an "empty nester" or someone who has never had a child, you find yourself looking at the pet clothing online. I kid you not! Even if you would never dress your pet up, that would demean them, they are animals after all, you find yourself smiling at some of the costumes. Don't deny it, I know you do! We still have that Darth Vader Halloween costume of Brandi's, and Mike said the other day "Wouldn't Charlie look cute in that?"

Yes, you are definitely one of "those" people.

If you have never had a dog, you can't conceive of saying "good boy" to a dog whose leavings you just scooped up with a little green bag over your hand. You can't even imagine walking the same path 4 or 5 times a day, with your little guy investigating the same grass each time. It's difficult to understand how the same people can share the same stories, with mild variations, day after day without going insane. You never could even imagine being interested in another dog's operations, history or adventures, and couldn't even dream of joining in on the conversation. having exactly the same sort of stories to share! How many times can you tell people, "We got Charlie for just $65 at the Henderson Animal Shelter! Aren't the other shelters expensive?" and have them respond that he's such a good boy and the best pet anyone could have? And yes, you are as proud of your pet at that moment as you would have been of your child, even if you won't admit it to yourself. A "good boy" from someone else is like a pat on your back. Is this vicarious living or is this sharing in the growth and development of your little furry "child?"

If you have never had a dog, you have never experienced unconditional love. Sure, cats love you too, but on their terms. They purr, they rub up against you, they like to cuddle and you love them deeply, but it's different. With a dog, a stern glance can leave them cowering, a firm word can make them stop in their tracks. With a dog, a "good boy" can bring a paroxysm of joy unequaled by any athlete. When your dog LISTENS for the first time, and sits when you say "sit" or stays when you say "stay," or when you find them doing something unbearably cute like secretly burying one of your shoes in their toy box and replacing all their dog toys in the box to cover it, and then unearthing it half an hour later, after you have searched for it the entire time <true story>, it's hard not to email or call your friends to tell them. 

You don't mind sitting on their doggy treats, or brushing your pants with a cat brush each day before you go outside. You don't mind going out in the wind, the rain, the snow, the extreme heat, and you tell yourself it's good for your health as well as for their well being. Even when you have severe allergies or feel plain lousy, you can almost enjoy a walk with your little guy. You don't curse (much) when you trip over their favorite toy, and can't refuse when they bring it to you all ratty-tatty and want you to play with them. The lick to the face makes you laugh, the sight of them running around the house with toy in teeth, tongue hanging out the side of their mouth, makes you laugh out loud. Somehow you feel more alive, more in touch with your emotions again, and you spontaneously burst into laughter more easily. You even enjoy the training, the milestones, the accomplishments and the very sight of their little face when you come home. You feel mildly guilty when you have to go out without them.

You have definitely become "one of those people," and aren't you glad?