What I Learned from Dogsitting

Thoughts on Responsible Dog Ownership and Pet Obsession

If you know me well, you know I will often joke about how small dogs are not "real" dogs. It's not that I really think that they are a separate species (I go so far as to to joke chihuahuas and pompoms are big rats). I despise the idea that they were bred to look like permanent puppies that irresponsible dog owners can baby. Because they are smaller and and so "cute" and easier to handle and dominate, they are often irresponsibly bred, which I believe is the reason for the "chihuahua mix epidemic" in adoption shelters and kennels. Small dogs and dogs bred just for cuteness reflect human pet obsession and babying.

Larger dogs tend to encourage a more rewarding companionship since they cannot be treated like babies all their life. There's the puppy phase and then it's over after a year or so. However, they are likely to become abandoned dogs if they are not socialized properly or not given the proper love. They end up misunderstood when they develop aggression or uncontrollable behaviors as adults. Because of this, I despise the notion that pets are just pets. Do NOT bring a "just a pet" mentality to large breed puppies. Why do you think there are so many German Shepherd mixes and Husky mixes in the shelters?! </endrant>

The first domesticated wolves were allies to humans. We made it each other better and helped each other survive. Since the first alliance, dogs have evolved together with us. But in a modern, pet-obsessed culture, it's so easy to forget that these souls can form real, meaningful bonds with us that are forged out of respect.

The Adorable Toasted Marshmallow (Dogsitting)

Last month, I had the opportunity to dogsit our new family pup, a 10-month-old Japanese Akita, for a short span of 10 days. The Akita breed is a large breed of dog and it is classified among the most dangerous dog breeds, next to the Husky and the German Shepherd. Knowing this, responsible dog ownership over Mashi was very important to me.

In sum total, she gave me something to live for--outside of my work, my boyfriend, and my friends and family. She gave me a glimpse of what it took to really, truly be responsible for another soul: self-awareness, dedication, and time.

You have to be self-aware in everything you do with and around a puppy. In developmental psychology, the brain is constantly making positive or negative associations with events so every little action can affect their development. Associative learning is at the crux of caring for a young life. For example, one day Mashi ran out of the house while my landlord had the garage open. In my many years of dog ownership, I'd learned that chasing after a dog will only make the dog run away. So I slowly approached her and to my pleasant surprise she did not run away as I took hold of her collar. This was a key breakthrough because I wanted her to learn that being offleash was okay as long as she let me approach her and take her collar. If I brought her inside the house at that moment, I would end up letting her associate "the collar grab" with "ruining the fun of being offleash." So instead, I put her training leash (15 ft) on and had Marvin take her for a walk in the park. In contrast, many dogs associate the collar grab with being dragged somewhere they don't want to go. I was always on thinking about my actions, even the tiniest of ones, and trying to remain self-aware.  Most importantly, my self-awareness helped me communicate with the dog because it made me aware of how I was communicating with her and how she might communicate back.

Self-awareness also helps a lot with dedication. In my last microblog, I brought out the quote "being awesome requires constant vigilance." Nothing is truer when you care for another being. Consistency is a key principle of associative learning but it takes a great deal of patience and discipline to do the right thing the large majority of the time. While laziness is the great bane of consistency, I found that when there was another life on the line, I was less likely to be lazy. I got out of the house to walk her in the cold mornings and evenings. I made sure she made positive social contact with dogs at the dog park. And I made sure she was fed and exercised. With dedication and self-awareness, I ended up exercising awareness over Mashi's needs. (It wasn't all perfect. One morning I failed to exercise her adequately because I had an early work meeting... and she ended up chewing up my roommate's slipper.) But even though it was a demanding "job" to care for her needs, I really think the love I developed for Mashi and time I invested in her over the short 10 days made me a better person. It put things in perspective and got me out of my own head and that is a huge thing for me.

Last but not least, the most difficult requirement of all when caring for another soul: time. My demographic profile (female, mid-twenties in the Bay Area) is not something to take lightly. It's an age when time is limited, careers are mobile, relationships volatile. In the fray of it all, taking care of a dog seems like something that could disrupt my current set of priorities (skill/knowledge acquisition, career, social life, relationships). Don't get me wrong--I know that in the future, the honor of forming a lasting bond with "man's best friend" will be high on my priority list. That bond in itself is a huge, irreplaceable reward--not to mention the endless warm and fuzzy instagram-worthy pictures, loving cuddles, crowd-pleasing adorableness, and cuteness overloads. However, unless I had adequate financial resources and could tag team with someone or have reliable dogsitters of my own, I would not risk adopting a puppy or a young adult dog.

What I learned from dogsitting is that I'm not ready to responsibly own a dog yet. It was a relief to bring Mashi back to my home in SoCal so I could "live my own life." But in the near future, who knows?

I still want to adopt a border collie and name him Spock.

But I want to earn that dream.