“To me, dogs are not the students, not the ones that need training. To me, a dog is a teacher of life, who teaches us the principles of the most important moral values: honesty, integrity, loyalty, trust, respect and love.”
So says self-proclaimed ‘dog whisperer’ César Millán. Indeed, raised lovingly, a dog will also teach you to slow down. To be more in the moment. To be forgiving, reliable, patient and kind.
I came to canine ownership late. My first dog was Tank, but sadly he wasn’t really mine – a basset hound puppy belonging to the family I stayed with as an exchange student in the US.
Tank was short, boisterous and incredibly smelly. His legs were too little to get up on the sofa and he would leave puddles of drool in any lap that would have him. But his excited greetings were always welcome after a day in the gladiatorial arena of high school and I was sad when I had to go back to the UK and leave him behind.
Puppy power
We were introduced to our new pup at a house in the hinterlands of north Wales, a spartan landscape punctuated with rusted cars and squat white bungalows. She bounded into the room and scampered about around our feet, thrilled to sniff out new humans and show us her happy self.
I scooped her up and she was as light and wriggly as an eel. There was a mark on her head like a giant chocolate button. Her nose was squished flat with a little pink spot where the pigment had wandered off absentmindedly, and with her too-big bat ears and needle baby teeth, she looked like a gremlin mid-transformation. It was love at first sight, and my daughter’s squeals of delight sealed the deal.
“Studies have shown that dogs raise serotonin levels in humans and reduce blood pressure – and now I understood why.”
Named Ponyo (after the heroine of our favourite Studio Ghibli film) the new arrival slept all the way home, curled up on my lap. She snored constantly and released a stream of noxious puppy farts, necessitating open windows on the three-hour drive, despite the bitter cold.
Having already raised a five-year-old human, the month or so of sleepless nights and toilet training that followed were a bearable burden. We emerged the other side happy, if a little frayed around the edges.
My husband soon became dog walker-in-chief, while I was designated the most desirable lap, pinned to the sofa for hours at a time. Dogs like to sleep a lot and Pon took this duty seriously. I learnt to sit still for more than five minutes for the first time in years. Studies have shown that dogs raise serotonin levels in humans and reduce blood pressure – and now I understood why.
Dog ownership introduced us to a hidden world. Seeking fresh places to exercise Pon in our home city, we discovered overlooked paths and secret woodlands. Along the way, we met other dog owners – a mostly happy breed, who stopped to exchange pleasantries and delight in the eccentricities of each other’s pets. The world suddenly seemed a friendlier place.
I had foreseen most of the downsides, but the upsides were often unexpected. We had got Pon as a companion for our daughter, as an incentive to get more exercise, and in the belief that it would bring a little of the country into our city lives.
But Pon’s presence also gave us a chance to slow down. To walk with no destination in mind. To take in the beauty (or otherwise) of our surroundings. To be present for a creature who had no concept of ‘later’ and lived more purely in the moment than any person I’ve ever met.
Loveable hounds
Within a year, my husband, inspired by others he’d met, announced that he was going to become a dog walker. There were various forms to fill out and courses to do but he has something of a knack with animals, and customers arrived quickly by word of mouth.
Digby, the first, was a Yorkshire terrier/poodle cross, with the temperament of Animal from The Muppets. Trying to get Digby to stay still was like lighting a firework and then telling it not to explode.
Next came Ernie, a sweet-natured pug, who wanted little more than a lap to sit on and would hold his forelegs out to you if he wanted a cuddle. Ernie had a habit of tripping over his own feet or somehow peeing on himself, so we quickly learned he needed a watchful eye at all times.
Cluedo, an old Staffordshire terrier, had been found in a London park as a puppy by his Portuguese owner. Cluedo terrified me at first, with his muscular flat head that made him look like a cross between a crocodile and a T-Rex. It took me a while to realise that he was completely harmless – and that in fact the only risk of damage came from his desire to sit on everyone, despite weighing 150lbs.
“The world suddenly seemed a friendlier place”
Olive and Nellie were Boston terriers, like our own Ponyo. Olive was a bigger version of Pon, calm and fairly reserved, with an impressive turn of speed. Nellie was a very different creature, wary around strangers and possessed by a squirrel obsession that lured her deep into the woods at the first whiff of a rodent. But she loved my husband and would usually come back when he called.
Lady was the last of these early regulars. A basset hound/pug cross, who had been written off by three previous dog walkers due to her alleged naughtiness. She was, in fact, a wonderful companion and loved having her tummy rubbed, sitting on her back legs like a furry totem pole, waiting for the appropriately administered affection.
The perfect pack
By now my husband was specialising in looking after small dogs and had taken on a number of French bulldogs. Paris and Bisou were niece and aunt, and thick as thieves, spending most of their time licking each other or curled in an infinite spiral of fur.
Beatrice was stunning, with an exquisite fawn face, but also a tendency to illness that saw her owners racking up huge vet bills. Ted and Barney loved to fight and made great playmates. Betty the bulldog liked to wade in streams, while Lola, the pug/Frenchie cross, had something of the miniature rhino about her, in looks and personality!
All these dogs, and more occasional visitors, made up a motley crew of very individual souls who took over our house and filled it with laughter, dog hair and fun.
They all taught us the same lesson – that love comes back to you as love received. That there is happiness to be sniffed out everywhere. And that there’s nothing so wonderful as being in the woods with your mates getting muddy.
Make your furry best friend a jacket!
Follow our easy dog coat pattern and keep your best friend warm this winter.
Faithful friends
To own a dog is like holding a small soul in your hands. You can twist that soul into a snarling, aggressive monster. Or you can coax it into a friend who’s faithful, gentle and loving. Happily, it’s so much easier to do the latter.
Shortly after getting Pon, I read John Bradshaw’s In Defence of Dogs. This book questions many of the widely held views on how to train your dog, which are traditionally centred on becoming your dog’s ‘pack leader’.
The need to dominate your dog is a fallacy, Bradshaw says, based on research of captive wolves in artificially created packs. A dog needs leadership, but not to be dominated.
Dogs, Bradshaw went on, do not think like humans. They are totally in the moment and have no concept of guilt. If you come home to a shredded cushion and tell your dog off, it will not know why. Instead, it will believe you are telling it off arbitrarily. It will act guilty because you are cross, but won’t know what’s going on.
This makes the dog anxious, and more prone to ‘bad’ behaviour. Will you punish it the next time you come home? It has no idea as it cannot make the connection between cause and effect some hours later. And thus a cycle begins.
Just like the theories it debunks, Bradshaw’s book isn’t without its critics, but it struck a chord with us and informed our training of Ponyo, who learned quickly without punishment and remains a mostly calm and gentle creature. She has yet to sniff out a cancer, or save a baby from a burning building, as some notable dogs have done.
But she has taught us to get outside more, take things a little easier and a little less seriously too. She is never happier than when we are all together, nested in for the night, and I’ve realised that that’s when we are happiest too.
Whether dogs are welcome is a stick by which we measure much now. Pubs with a dog bowl available and snacks behind the bar are usually friendly. The rare shops that allow dogs even more so. Campsites and beaches that ban them are eschewed in favour of more relaxed holiday destinations.
Of course, not everyone likes dogs, but given the chance I think anyone could grow to love them. As TV gardener Monty Don writes in his memoir Nigel: My Family and Other Dogs:
“Perhaps most of us would willingly share our lives with a dog. Each one is special, and each one individual, but the love is uncomplicated and common to us all.”
Make a bandana for your pooch
Treat a four-legged friend to a hand-stitched embroidered dog bandana and ensure they look extra dapper for your next trip to the park.
