Thursday, May 3, 2018

Help, I'm dating a dog person

Although in my entire adult life I've never owned a cat of my own, I've always considered myself more of a cat person than a dog person...or rather, more of a cat.


However, as they say, opposites attract, so somehow I found myself sharing my home and life with an undeniable dog person. Not only is he a dog person, but he is bound and determined to make me into one, too. He regularly foments chaos in my calm and peaceful existence by bringing home new, increasingly disruptive dogs every couple of years.

The newest one is, fortunately, not a lazy, grumpy, foot-piddling cat-dog, nor a yapping, anxiety-ridden bundle of health problems. It's something much worse: a puppy.


Cuteness not withstanding, there are many irritating things about having a puppy, but anyone who's had a puppy probably already knows what they are. What you might not know is that the most irritating thing about having a puppy has nothing to do with dogs at all—it's dog people!

People in general love dogs (even I, a certifiable antisocialite, love dogs, in a commitment-phobic kind of way), but dog people not only love dogs; they act like dogs! And when you're out and about with a cute puppy, you're bound to attract at least a few dog people—that is to say, people with no sense of boundaries.

Here's a typical exchange:

Cat person: [Walking dog, enjoying the weather, generally minding her own business]
Squealing girl: Can I pet your puppy!!!1!!???
Cat person: [only hissing mentally] Of course!
Girl pets puppy. Puppy loves it. Other dog people descend like wolves, eager to get in on the action. Puppy is ecstatic. Cat person is hovering awkwardly nearby, trying to suppress the instinct to flee.

This is a best-case scenario. In a worst-case scenario, the dog person will want to do the unthinkable: engage in conversation.

The conversation is always the same: What's your dog's name? How old is he? What's his breed? After running out of standard questions, the dog person will then begin to rhapsodize on how cute the puppy is, how he is making her day, and/or all the ways the puppy reminds her of her own dog.

This may sound like one-way nattering, but when two dog people get together, just like dogs, they both feel the need to get in each other's faces and yap. A simple encounter can easily turn into an endless exchange about the characteristics of the dog in question, the characteristics of every participant's every pet since the time of their infancy, and the defining characteristics of every breed known to man.

It can really get annoying. And I know, because my boyfriend is a dog person. I've watched him get mired in conversations with other dog people that lasted so long, I had to walk away. There's only so much smiling and nodding a cat person can force out before she has to return to solitary pastimes. Being a cat person in a dog person's family is not unlike being a cat in a bathtub: sometimes you just want to run away screaming.

Yet, as a responsible pet owner, you know you have a duty to to treat your dog with loving kindness, and meet its needs. Even when those needs involve...(dum dum dummm)...going out in public!

Every day, the puppy must be taken on a seemingly infinite number of walks. Of course, I could just hustle him out for a quick potty break and dart back inside like a ghost, as would be my preference...but the less you exercise the puppy outdoors, the more he wants to run around the house or office, barking, digging at the carpet, and chewing up the couch.

So instead, it's long tedious walks around campus—walks which inevitably lead to hordes of dog people wanting to meet the puppy. 

I thought this ordeal was inevitable, and as a cat person, I was uncertain if I could survive it on my own. But in only one short solo excursion with the puppy, I learned a trick for tolerating walks when feeling antisocial (which, if you're a cat person, is all the time). It even comes in the form of a game, which should make even the most hardcore dog people happy. I call it "Dodge the Humans!"

The rules are simple:
  1. When out and about with your dog, try to only walk where other people are not walking. This may mean eschewing paved pathways, and suddenly changing directions when you see a crowd.
  2. Be especially wary of children and groups of female humans. These are the ones most likely to attempt to approach you.
  3. When forced to cross paths with a human of any sort, don't make eye contact! I find it helps to stare intently at the dog while continuously uttering a stream of commands and praise. That way you can at least pass for a fellow dog person, and not some humanoid robot that hates all living things.
By following these rules assiduously, I was able to survive an entire walk around the mall (and then around a couple of extra buildings to avoid a school group) without once having to tell anyone my dog's age! We even made it almost all the way back inside when I started to feel sorry for the puppy, who seemed sad about not getting all the pats and attention he is used to whenever he goes out....So I let him run up to someone entering the building, slip through the door, and nearly escape out the other side. This resulted in a flurry of apologies, an even more awkward interaction than any silly dog-talk chat could be.

From now on, I think I'll stick with what a cat person does best. I'll continue Dodging the Humans and only participate in puppy play when it suits my mood. I'll leave the socializing, the endless activity, and all the yapping to my boyfriend. After all, if there's one good thing about being a cat person stuck in a dog person's family, it's that you have a dog person to do all that.

0 comments: