My Dog and Me, Year One

Happy Dogiversary!

(I thought I’d published this back in January, but I apparently “published” it to the drafts folder. Darn. On the bright side, I now have a post while I’m struggling to find my feet. Free win. Yay!)

It’s true: happiness is a dog.

Today is my and Suki’s one-year dogaversary. It’s been a whole year since I drove out to the SPCA to meet her, feeling all kinds of anxious and vulnerable. Time flies when your days get busy.

I’d fallen for her profile online, and I was very concerned that I would be rejected as soon as we came face-to-face. I came to learn, however, that rejection mostly doesn’t happen to potential adopters as long as the application is approved and the animal doesn’t seem reticent. If you’re a decent person who can afford the adoption fee, and the animal you’re looking to bring home is a match to your circumstances – no, Bethany, you can’t have a horse in an apartment – you’re generally good to go.

I remember that first drive home as if it were yesterday. I had Suki harnessed and in the back seat. I’d had to stop a few blocks away from the shelter to redo what they’d done for me, as they’d put the harness on ninety degrees wrong.

It didn’t take long to fix her and reattach the harness to the seatbelt. I was feeling quite smug in my anxiousness as I headed home – she was whining and whimpering some, for all my soothing and reach-back pettings. Imagine my surprise when I felt a doggie head next to my own, however. A quick look back at the next stoplight revealed that she was quite harness-free.

Suki is a very clever beastie when she wants to be.

Doggo Details

I’m still not good at cinching harnesses and collars tightly enough. I feel bad: I don’t like things tight and binding. I suspected my anthropomorphism would be an issue when it came to interacting with a dog. I have to remind myself regularly that Suki’s not a person, for all that she sleeps on my bed at night and takes her meals in pasta bowls.

In my defence, I had the pasta bowls and rarely used them, and she rejected the first two food bowls I tried. Suki can be a bit of a princess, on occasion. It’s probably because she’s such a pretty girl.

She’s also a picky eater with a sensitive stomach – the former probably leads to the latter – so she not only has special bowls, but special meals. I’m always trying to tempt her appetite. It’s as rewarding as preparing meals for your toddler. She does like broccoli. Suki will also gladly stalk my youngest grandson when he’s in his highchair for whatever debris rains down. Toast and scrambled eggs are particular favourites.

Suki also likes shredded, boiled, unsalted, unseasoned chicken. Dogs have the taste buds of Philistines, it seems.

Suki makes me happy multiple times a day, and she brings to my life a purpose it was lacking – most of us need to be needed for our lives to make sense. She cuddles with me when I’m sad or down, she gets me out of myself when I’m too much into the navel-gazing, and she always thinks I look amazing.

She likes me even better when I shower less frequently, she doesn’t notice or criticize if I happen to sleep in my clothes, and she’s always showering me with love and doggie affection. Shredded chicken it is.

Early Challenges

Not many of our choices lead us to nothing but happiness and rainbows, and adopting a dog is no different. Suki is my love and my darling, but she’s also a wilful handful that liked nothing more in the early days of our walking relationship to take off in pursuit of whatever squirrel, rabbit, or dust mote caught her eye, my arm’s affection for remaining attached to my arm notwithstanding.

It’s been a long time since I was a parent to younglings, and the patience I developed back then has left the building. I was sort of aware of that fact while driving, but nothing makes you more aware of a short temper and control issues than a dog with love in her heart and a desire to listen to commands not at all.

We did a basic training class, and she’s a smart cookie, but her time in the care of the SPCA, and perhaps her life before, made her quite skittish around other people. Other dogs she loves to death. Her need to remain by my side most of the time makes some training practices more challenging.

Recall

It’s hard to work on recall when they’re never more than a foot away, but work on it, we must, because a dog that doesn’t stop and call when out and about is a problem. You can’t keep them safe if they won’t mind you when it’s vital. This is what drives some of my frustrations when she is laggard about returning when called while enjoying the freedom of the off-leash areas: I get frightened, and who needs that?

Anger is always the easier emotion, though it’s not terribly effective as a training tool for dogs. They’re very much in the moment. There’s little point in holding a grudge over the events of five minutes, or even five seconds ago.

I also worry too much about what other people think of my dog and me. Concern about other people’s opinions, for all that those opinions are not my business, is a long-standing habit that I hope to bin in 2026. It has never served me well, and it often does me dirty.

Training Tales

Suki’s not as obedient as I’d like when she’s off-leash is certainly my fault and responsibility. You’re supposed to practice several times a day the skill you want your doggo to be proficient in, but I’m averaging once a day, five times a week, most weeks. Dogs are like people in that way; they can only do what you teach them to do. I watch people training border collies on the fields sometimes, and am inspired.

It would be nice if that inspiration turned into action.

Suki follows commands well at home, especially when you have treats. She responds beautifully when there’s a chance a piece of dried beef liver might be coming her way. We just need to get better in the outside world of more distractions.

I could also take treats with me when we walk. I don’t because I heard a random stranger say it indicated weak training, so I follow that bit of bizarre, eavesdropped information rather than modelling my actions after most of the other people with dogs.

We now take treats on the walks where there might be off-leash time.

She’s a clever girl, and has quite a few commands down under her belt: she can sit, stay, down (on the belly), up (like on the bed), jump (hopefully self-explanatory), hug (on hind legs, front paws on my chest), stop, wait, place (not great at this one, again my fault) and come.

She also high-fives, and that’s so adorable.

Recall is the command Suki is least consistent at following when we’re out and off-leash, mostly because she lives in hope of one day catching that squirrel. She’s also not much interested in returning to my side if there’s a chance of a swim.

The Water Shollie

The winter weather has frustrated us a bit. It’s not been cold enough for any snow, so instead of lovely and white, the weather is grey and dreary. It’s been raining and flooding where we are, which makes walks less fun for both of us, her because she has to wear the slicker – but definitely not the hood – and me because I get soaked.

No, I don’t use an umbrella: I hate those things. I’d carry one only if it converted into a pocket helicopter for trips home in a hurry. It’s really not that practical with a dog.

Suki would swim in the road puddles if I let her, but street water isn’t the cleanest, so I demur. I don’t want a dog coated in dilute motor oil. Ditto the muddy puddles at the bottom of the fenced dog run: I shudder to think what that water would look like under a microscope.

Take A Dive

Suki loves the deep water best, though she’s not picky – shallow ponds are as appealing as large lakes. I plan to show her the ocean this year, and we’ll see what she thinks about that. my parents’ Cairn Terrier, Rufus, viewed the ocean as a mortal enemy.

She’s interested in more than racing about or lying down in the shallows, though she adores doing those things, too. She dog-paddles extremely effectively, and even likes to dive.

Suki’s a dog that loves getting her head wet. Happiness is apparently sticking your head under a waterfall, eye infections and antibiotics be damned. Her smile post dunk makes it workth it.

It’d be handy if she’d let me get close with the blow dryer, but she’s at least a fan of the towel rubdown. Once I realized I’d have a wet pet on my hands after most walks, I restocked my towel supply at the thrift store. I also scooped up extra blankets for the back seat.

Happiness is being prepared.

Prepping for Pet

I researched owning a dog before I adopted Suki. I wanted to make sure I would be a good and responsible owner. I wanted to make sure I could meet the requirements. I wanted to make sure I didn’t fail and screw us both up.

I wasn’t impulsive with the adoption: I thought and talked about adopting a dog for nearly a year before I made my move. Pet ownership shouldn’t be entered into lightly – it’s a big responsibility. It’s the kind of thing you should know about before committing.

I should’ve researched how quickly you lose your heart to a puppy. I didn’t know that I’d spend so much time worrying about her. I didn’t know that I’d spend so much time trying to make her happy. I also need to go back in time and apologize for any unkind thoughts I may have had about doggie clothing.

My baby has slickers, fashionable harnesses, and booties for icy weather. I’m not sure my kids had it so good. I didn’t build them a staircase off the deck, after all. Then again, they didn’t have to pee in the backyard. My convenience was a big factor.

Despite my research, the demands of Suki’s exercise requirements caught me off guard. Her happy place right now is about two hours a day. That’s a lot of walking. Dog ownership also made me realize I can’t be wearing the cheap shoes. My mother would be thrilled. She firmly believed that once can’t be happy with ill-fitting shoes and sore feet.

I was also surprised by the amount of hair Suki sheds on the daily. I underestimated how many dog hair pillows I could make in a week, if I was so inclined, by a significant margin.

Got Guilt?

Nobody can make you feel as bad or as guilty as a dog, and that’s without you doing anything wrong.

Suki has resting sad face, so you start off feeling like you’ve hurt her in some way at the first meeting. She has deep, dark eyes that I’m always desperate to see smiling; they seem to reflect a soul-deep sadness that can only be soothed by near-constant snuggles and pets.

She’s a quiet dog, so her persistence is of the silent type. She just looks at you and gives the occasional deep sigh, so you know that she knows that walk time was ten minutes ago and counting.

Suki’s ridiculously good at telling time and a demon about staying on schedule. She’s not a “go with the flow” dog, which works out – I’m not very “go with the flow” myself.

I used to get annoyed when I’d encounter people with their dogs at this store or that one. “Keep your dogs at home,” I’d think to myself. “Not all of us want to encounter a dog while shopping at Winners or Canadian Tire.”

That was then, this is now. I suddenly find myself thinking I should be allowed to bring my dog everywhere. It would be easier if she were tiny. I may have to look into Service training to circumvent. We have become a team.

Pets Aren’t Cheap

When I looked into getting a dog, I found lots of articles about prepping for the changes to your life and house. You’re going to be busier and dirtier with a dog. You’ll also have less disposable income. It’s good to be prepared on that front.

I wasn’t ready for the unrelenting cash drain that kicked into gear the second I signed the adoption paperwork, and that’s excluding the adoption fee. Pets are not unlike kids in this regard: once you have them, your money suddenly sprouts wings. Mostly not on frivolities, either.

I definitely should’ve invested in pet medical insurance at the beginning. She had some post-spay complications and some breathing issues early on that proved not only expensive but an impediment to acquiring affordable insurance later. Get insurance before you need it.

You care for them in sickness and health, and while emergency veterinary invoices threaten to stop the heart with their plethora of dollar signs, regular maintenance costs are also nothing to sneeze at, either. That monthly flea treatment isn’t free, either.

The Impulse Buy

Many pet-related expenditures are unavoidable – leashes, collars, and rain gear, oh my – and dogs also like to be fed every day. Unless you’re Suki, in which case it’s twice a day, with a midday yogurt snack.

My discretionary/non-essential Suki spending is perhaps inching a bit high. That might explain why I feel like cash is dripping from my pores. I purchase too much in the “it’s adorable, she’ll love it, is that one bacon-flavoured” category of treats. It’s easy to spoil a dog – they love you so much, and ask for so little.

Why wouldn’t you buy a decorative basket that says “Dog’s Toys” on it for your home? How else would you know where to put them? ¹

We’ll pretend Suki doesn’t ignore them all.

My Love, My Angel

Suki is my love and my darling angel baby. She is the sweetest of sweet dogs. She is my quiet lovey. She is gentle to her bones and very sweet with it. Unless you’re a cat or a squirrel. She has strong feelings for both of those creatures, but I’m not sure they’re benign.

I suspect they’re closely related to the feelings I get when I see the waiter bringing over the nachos.

Suki has changed a lot this past year. She’s far less nervous around people, for one thing. In the early days, she’d hide her sixty pounds behind my legs when other humans were involved. This was especially true of men – she’d cringe and recoil. This is very different now. Not only does she not reject other people out of hand, she also approaches the occasional one for pets without any coaxing or cajoling at all.

Suki, the Star Trek dog – She’s a Cling-on

Suki is a velcro dog. She doesn’t like to be far from me when I’m in the house – under the feet is best – and she doesn’t much like it when I leave home without her, though she’s a million times better at alone time than when I first got her. I couldn’t leave her in the bedroom for more than thirty seconds before she’d start to scratch at the door and howl.

We practiced every day to calm her anxiety. We practiced every day because I needed to be able to leave the house without both of us ending up nervous wrecks. It was hard, but I persisted, and seconds alone became minutes, which became a quarter of an hour, which became a half and then a full hour, which evolved to where we’re at now: I can leave Suki alone for between three and four hours, which is in the normal range for this kind of dog. Neither Shepherds nor Collies do well by themselves for longer periods: they get lonely.

From the videos I’ve seen online, there’s also the potential for mischief with prolonged absence. I like my couch with the stuffing on the inside.

In Conclusion

I worried a lot about adopting my dog, because worry is my nature. I’ve made mistakes, sure, but nothing dire, more along the lines of cutting walks short because of frustration. I judge myself harshly, but real cruelty or mistreatment is simply not in my nature. How could you break that much unconditional love and trust?