Carla has decided that, when she grows up, she wants to be a zookeeper. A zookeeper with a cat for an assistant.
This comes as no surprise to anyone who knows Carla. She loves animals more than anything in the universe. She chooses videos of animals whenever I give her the chance to watch something on my computer. She prefers stuffed animals over dolls, and her favorite game of late (read: past year and a half at least) is playing “Kitty,” wherein I count to ten, she hides, and then she pretends she’s a cat and I have to bring her home and teach her to do tricks. (The reward for the tricks is Goldfish crackers, obviously.) If I hand her my phone in the car or in the grocery store, she will keep herself busy googling pictures of whatever animal is most on her mind (mountain lion, giraffe, porcupine, praying mantis, armadillo). She has no innate fear of animals: she loves snakes and lizards and insects as much as she likes the fluffier, cuddlier critters.
If I had to choose her FAVORITE animal, though, I’d say dog.
She claims she likes cats best – and maybe she does; that’s certainly the animal she pretends to be. She seems to play with her stuffed cats most often. Cats star in her favorite online videos. But she hasn’t had much real-life experience with cats.
Dogs, on the other hand…
Carla’s first experience with a dog was at her great grandmother’s funeral. Well, to be more accurate, the reception after the funeral; this wasn’t the type of mortuary that has dogs wandering around, although that sounds like it would be quite comforting. She was not quite a year old, and she fell in love with the dog who lived at the house where the reception took place. And she followed it around the ENTIRE TIME we were there. It was some sort of golden retriever and so it was big enough that it could knock her over with a wag of its tail. She loved it and I think it launched a passion for dogs that has so far only continued to blossom.
My parents have a dog, and Carla has been OBSESSED with him since she first met him. She will follow him around constantly. She has to be touching him at all times. Whenever she’s not with him – even if that means she’s sitting at the table eating breakfast and the dog is on the other side of the room – she has to know what he’s doing. Even though we were all in the same room together, she would insist on narrating what the dog was doing. “He’s licking his paw!” she would crow to my mother, who was sitting several feet away from the dog. “He’s sleeping!” she would announce to my father, who was literally at that moment petting the dog. When we are away from my parents and Carla mentions them – I miss them, I love them, I wonder what they’re doing – she never omits the dog. When we talk about members of her family, she lists the dog right up there with her uncle and aunt and grandparents and cousin.
We are lucky to live on a quiet cul-de-sac that has MANY dogs. One dog lives next door. Another lives across the street. Another lives across the street and three doors down. There are four others that live at the north end of the street, and three more that live at the south end. Plenty of dogs in close proximity.
Which is great!
But it’s also raised previously unknown-to-me etiquette concerns. What is an ideal Dog Neighbor Relationship supposed to look like? What are the appropriate Dog Neighbor Boundaries? How can we be good and non-irritating Neighbors to Dogs?
To make matters more complicated and uncertain, I do not like dogs.
Perhaps this changes your mind about me. I’m sorry if it does. But dogs are not my thing. I do not like how slobbery they are. I don’t like the licking. I don’t like the idea of picking up another creature’s excrement. I don’t like the hair or the scent or the forced walking.
Listen, I’m not going to be mean to a dog. I will say hello to a dog as I pass it on the street. I will happily look at your dog pictures. I will even, on occasion, pet one. I can appreciate a dog. I certainly want YOU to love dogs.
But I bring this up because I don’t really know anything about what it means to HAVE a dog. To be a Dog Owner. I mean, I grew up with dogs… but they were outdoor-only dogs and they had the run of our many-acre property so there wasn’t any pooper-scooper action or even any walking to be done. I never went to a dog park. My parents were responsible for the brushing and the feeding. They kind of existed at the periphery of my attention.
This means that I’ve had to learn, from scratch, how to interact with other people’s dogs. I’ve always sort of thought of Dog People as sociable types, who enjoy being outside with their dogs, who bask in sharing their Joy of Dogs with other dog lovers. So when Carla learned to walk, and we’d be out and about in the neighborhood, I thought nothing of allowing her to pet our neighbors’ dogs.
(Note for the concerned: I have always taken great care to teach Carla about Dog Safety: asking the dog’s owner before touching a dog; allowing the dog to sniff your hand first; preferred places to touch the dog; steering clear of dogs alone on their lawns, protecting their homes; being alert to signs that the dog is frightened or upset – ears laid back on the head, tail between the legs, growling.)
At first, it was easy enough – and, frankly, tiny Carla was adorable enough – to get away with a lot of dog attention. Our neighbors were very indulgent. But as Carla’s gotten older and more autonomous – and ever more obsessed with dogs – it’s gotten more uncomfortable. For me, I guess I should say. I have no idea how the neighbors feel. I am just assuming that their patience with Carla and our constant Dog-Related Interruptions is wearing thin.
For instance, Carla would see a dog in its yard as we walked past and would call out to the owner, “Can I pet your dog?” Or she would see a dog passing the house and would run to the door shrieking after the owner, “Can I pet your dog?” Or, worst of all, she would see a dog owner arriving home, and would call out, “Can you bring your dog outside?” Anytime we glimpsed one of the dogs on our street, Carla would make a beeline for it. And then she’d foist attention upon it – to the exclusion of all other things, like neighbors asking her kind questions about what she’d done in school that day, or like her mother noting that we’d need to leave in two minutes to go eat dinner – until the point where I would physically extract her from the situation, sometimes with accompanying tears and/or screaming.
Delightful, right?
Our kind, patient neighbors would usually acquiesce to her doggy demands with gracious kindness. But it makes ME feel like such an imposition. And an over-indulgent parent. And a person who doesn’t understand proper Dog Boundaries. AND a Bad Neighbor.
In maybe the past six months, we’ve instituted a new “rule,” which is that we only ask if we can pet someone’s dog if we encounter it on a walk. As in, if the dog is walking with its owner and we are walking. If we are on a walk and we pass by someone’s house, even if the dog and its owner are sitting outside on the lawn, we will not bother them. The rule is accompanied by a stern reminder that we need to pet the dog for short time, and when the dog owner or I say it’s time to go, we need to leave immediately and with no tears.
So I am trying to teach her about privacy and boundaries and all the things that are important to me. And we’re having success!
But it’s HARD. Because she LOVES THOSE DOGS. And sometimes, before I can remind her of the rule, she calls out – across the street, down the block, out of a car window – “CAN I PET YOUR DOG?” And then the neighbors feel obligated to comply.
In those cases, I usually explain to Carla that it’s not the right time, remind her of our rule, etc. And guide her away from the dog. But occasionally, the dog owner will say something like, “It’s okay,” and then Carla gets to pet the dog anyway. And I die quietly of humiliation.
Because I never know what’s appropriate, you know? I never know if I am being too strict with my own boundaries, or if I’m reading the situation correctly, or if I am totally overthinking things, or if I am being way TOO lax with what I allow Carla to ask and do.
The other day, we walked a few blocks to the post office. On the way, we noticed that our neighbor was walking his dog – about half a block in front of us. I reminded Carla of our rule, and told her if we crossed paths, she could ask if she could pet his dog. So Carla took off running. I had her stop and come back, but of course she wanted to catch up to the neighbor dog. At one point, the dog stopped to sniff a tree and we were within a few yards. So she yelled, “Hello, Mr. Neighbor! Can I pet your dog?” (I am also trying to teach her to acknowledge the person and not simply the dog.) But he was wearing earphones and didn’t hear.
I knew he had seen us though; we’d exchanged a wave. And I also knew that he KNOWS Carla and her dog obsession. I wondered if he was purposely staying ahead of us so he didn’t have to deal with Carla. And then I began to panic that he might think we were following him. No! We were just going in the same direction! Fortunately, he veered off one way and we went the opposite direction to the post office.
But of course, on the way home, we spotted him. I told Carla that we would probably cross paths and that she could say hello and ask to pet the dog. But he STOPPED, on the other side of the street. I don’t know why. To avoid us? Perhaps. (Panic, panic.) But we had to cross the street anyway, and then he was maybe five yards away, and she had been so patient and so rigorous in sticking to the rules, so I let her go up to him and say hello and pet the dog. Our neighbor was very pleasant about it. But sweet amaryllis did it make me anxious, intruding on his walk like that! If it had been up to me, I would have assumed that he was keeping his distance on purpose, and then I would have waved, stayed on my side of the street, and walked briskly to my house.
As an introverted person with, shall we say, Very Strong Boundaries, it is extremely uncomfortable for me to try to navigate these types of situations appropriately – and even worse when I have to teach my boundary-light daughter how to do so. What’s the right thing? What’s overstepping? What’s too much Dog Joy vs. not enough?
I think Carla is going to win lots of friends in the neighborhood when she gets old enough to be a dog walker. But until then, I guess I will just keep bumbling my way through Neighbor Dog Relationship Issues.
I am transfixed by the idea of a funeral home with a Dogs Section for those who wanted the company of a dog during the service.
I have, to my huge surprise, TURNED INTO a dog person. That is, I was always a cat person, nervous around dogs. Then I worked for clients who had dogs, and now I am a “HI DOGGIE!!! HI!! HI!!! WHO’S A GOOD DOGGO??” person. I still don’t like dogs that jump up, but as I understand Dog Etiquette, that is a behavior also considered unpleasant by Dog People.
I have full sympathy for your plight, and no advice. It sounds to me like you’re handling it really well, though: setting up boundaries, being sensitive to what other people communicate through behavior and body language, and teaching Carla to do the same. A nerve-wracking but valuable Learning Experience.
I don’t know if your animal shelter does this. But. Ours is always looking for volunteer dog walkers. It would mean doing some of the unpleasant aspects of dog care—but I’ll bet Carla would LOSE HER MIND with joy.
The funerary dogs thing should be a thing, right? Why isn’t it a thing? The shelter idea is a very good one, although the Unpleasant Aspects make me feel… unpleasant. I will need to revisit the thought once I get over the initial unpleasant sensation. Because you are right. She would LOVE it.
I’ve never “met” someone that had such similar feelings to dogs as myself! Our dog history is also identical (parents had outdoor dogs with several acres for them to roam). I also just FEEL the anxiety oozing through my screen as a fellow introvert.
But none of this helps you as I’m in your same boat and my children aren’t yet dog people. I feel like what you are doing is correct, but that doesn’t really help in reducing your uncertainties about it all. But, I feel confident there will be lots of dog lovers that read this and will have all the advice for you!
I am essentially the thirtysomething version of Carla. I see a dog and I WANT TO PET IT. But I always ask first. And, as someone who doesn’t own a dog (but soon, hopefully) but does own a cat, I LOVE IT when people ask about my cat, want to pet my cat, and tell her how beautiful she is. I am so proud of her and all the work that went into socializing her and making her wonderful that I want to show her off.
Now, I can see if I owned a dog and I was in a hurry and I just wanted to get the dog to use the bathroom and get on with my life, I might not always be in a hurry to show off my hypothetical dog, but I think the wanting to show off all the work that went into making the dog a wonderful dog would still stand. Plus, small children who are being coached into good petiquette is the cutest thing ever!
You’re doing everything right. If the dog is not ready for Carla pets, it is incumbent upon the owner to say no (no is a complete sentence, right?). Let her pet and pet and pet.
I have no good advice except to commiserate. I’ve spent most of my adult life in a heavily fortified, introvert, bubble-shield, partly because I’m shy but also because of my intense fear of imposing on anyone in any way. My children do not respect the shield. Not even a little bit. So I’m forced to interact with strangers constantly, which: anxiety! But is admittedly also sometimes very nice. For instance, this morning I have to stay up at the church for various reasons with my incredibly friendly baby. It is also senior activity day. We’re doing A LOT of interacting. And honestly, it’s lovely.
I am a dog owner, with several neighbourhood children who are JUST LIKE yours. I am so grateful that you are trying to teach your child about personal boundaries. Sometimes I just need to get the dog out to pee (no yard), and I don’t have time for the children, or they are too overwhelming for a puppy in training, and I have to do the “avoidance maneuvers.” Thank you for being so sensitive. You are doing it all right!
Following the dog around all day, never giving it any space… that is worrisome. Most dog bites happen to children, for that reason. Dogs have many ways of saying “please stop.” These include:
Repeatedly licking lips
Ears back, brows furrowed, looking tense.
“Whale eyes,” which is when you can see the whites of their eyes, and it’s not because they’re looking to the side.
Turning the head away.
Yawning. If a dog yawns more than once during an interaction, it can be a sign of stress. Stress yawns are very tense looking, as opposed to a relaxed, sleepy yawn.
When all these things are ignored, some dogs feel like they have no choice but to bite to get their point across.
I don’t want you to be paranoid about it, please don’t. But I encourage you to research dog body language, signs of stress, and calming signals. It’s important stuff and it saves people from getting bitten.