Western Oregon Journal

When I got a puppy in June (a boxer/pit bull named Zoë—aged 5 weeks in the picture) I was ecstatic; I’d wanted my own dog for quite some time, and especially with the death of the family dog I’d grown up with I was ready for the responsibility of a real pet all my own. I just wasn’t prepared for all the repercussions that came with it.

When you have a child, everyone you know comes out of the woodwork and is suddenly a baby expert, and they give you advice whether you want it or not. Well, as my aunt so kindly pointed out weeks after I got Zoë, a puppy is one step away from a child, and I soon learned this was true.

First, there was the getting up at night. Zoë would cry and want attention and I had to let her out of my room and take her outside and make sure she did her business and had clean paws before she came in again, etc., etc., etc. It almost makes changing a diaper look simple.

And then there were the vet visits. Twice monthly I had to bring her in for shots and check-ups and a hefty bill. By now I am on a first-name basis with the veterinary assistants, and they all know Zoë and everything she’s up to. Oh, and it cost an arm and a leg. Every time we went in. Sound familiar, moms?

Then it was time to train my new puppy, and while she thankfully picked up house training really quickly, we are still working on manners. Including not chewing on the walls of my house, not rummaging in the garbage for fun finds like orange peels and tampon wrappers, and not chasing and pouncing on our elderly cat when she goes to eat. Yes, there is a lot more work to do, although she will sit, lay and almost shake on command.

But the worst part of having a dog (because really none of those things bother me all that much) is the advice. And everyone’s a critic. My mom is worried that she will stain the carpet, so she wants me to keep her outside at all times. And she wants me to bring her all of my family’s leftover table scraps. The vet warns me that I need to get her in obedience school so she can be socialized. The girl I bought her from warns not to let her sleep on my bed because she will never be able to not sleep in my bed if she gets used to it. And I should feed her at the exact same time everyday, and use this type of leash, and put up that type of fence and train her to heel this way and make sure not to pet her that way.

And really, all I want to say is she is my dog, and therefore all of these choices are mine to make. I am beginning to understand how new parents feel, because if this is the type of “helpful advice” bombardment I got as a new dog owner, I can only imagine everything I will have to deal with as a new parent. I can only hope the parenting advice is more helpful and less nit-picky than the dog owner advice. I guess I will just have to wait and see.

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