“Just a Pet”.

They are never “Just A Pet”.

30 Day Challenge, Day 3.

If there is one thing I hate hearing from anyone’s lips, it’s those four words.

“It’s just a pet”.

Because that person has clearly never loved an animal properly. I pity them.

Anyone who has lost a beloved dog, cat, rabbit or any other companion animal and mourned for them, experienced the gaping hole that they leave in your world and felt the pain from having your heart ripped out and torn to shreds by that loss, can tell you how awful a phrase that is.

And it makes me so sad for any animal that had ever loved that person, and been treated as “just a pet”.

My world revolves around my dog. It revolved around the dog before her so much that I gained £10,000 worth of up-to-degree-level qualifications to improve his life when he needed help with his struggles. Any animal I bring into my world or find their own way to me will be given the same consideration and care.

An animal is a living, feeling, emotional being with needs, wants, desires, and the ability to feel love, rejection, fear, happiness, sadness and so much more.

We take animals into our world, away from their family and into our homes, without ever asking them how they feel about it.

We expect them to live according to what WE think they should live like.

• We take away all their choices. When they can eat, sleep, toilet, and play. Who they can spend time with, sit next to, mate with. Where they can go, when they can go there, what they can do when they get there.
• With dogs especially, we removed most of the meaning from their lives. They no longer have the jobs they were bred for 100s or even 1000s of years to do and are expected to be content with mulling aimlessly around the house being “a pet”.
• They often are expected to spend long periods of time alone while we work then are bundled into the kitchen while we eat, get to trot around the same piece of path every night — often without being allowed to stop and sniff, and then they are put back in the kitchen or locked away while we sleep.
• Unlucky dogs are taught with aversive methods to be “obedient”, and “compliant” little robots or experience discomfort and pain. Their humans yell at them, spray them with water or smelly citronella, and pop on prong collars and shock collars rather than show them how to do things well and reward them.
• Unlucky dogs are “fixed” with inhumane methods. They have behaviours punished when instead we should be trying to understand what struggle or need they are communicating and helping them with that. 80% of behaviour cases can be linked to pain or illness — yet the dog, who is just trying to tell you something hurts or they are scared, is labelled “bad” and has to suffer punishment for their “disobedience”.

And their humans think of them as “just a pet”.

What kind of existence is that?

And then they get to the end of their lives, having been “just a pet”.

There is a saying, that:

“We only have our dogs for part of our lives. They are only a part of our world when they are with us. But they have us for THEIR WHOLE LIFE. We ARE their whole life.”

And we call them “just a pet”.

Well, not my dog.

• My dog is allowed to make choices.
• She can sleep on the furniture if she wants.
• She won’t get shouted at for doing things that come naturally to her.
• She will certainly never experience a shock collar, prongs, sprays or physical punishment.
• We don’t just pavement pound — she has days out and trips to places she can explore. She has a hired field from time to time, and she gets to go places she likes to go. She can sniff and dither about as much as she likes.
• She is taught kindly the boundaries of our lives together, rewarded for good manners, and we earn respect from her rather than just assuming we should have it and bullying compliance out of her.
• She shares a room with me at night.
• She is heard and understood.

Is she out of control? Aggressive? Spoiled? Dangerous? A “BAD” dog?

No.

She is a happy, healthy, confident dog who is secure in the knowledge that she is loved and that her all needs are provided for.

Sure, she can be mischievous — but she should be so!

• She enjoys stealing the remote control, and socks.
• She pulls on her lead until she has had a decent poo on her walk.
• She barks at the postman and the Amazon man.
• She eats the bread I put out for the birds.
• She chases the cat.
• She raids the bin.
• She worked out how to open doors.
• She joins me for company when I go to the toilet.

I would miss it if she didn’t do those things. If I wanted a robot, I’d have bought a robot. It’s the things like that, that make up a personality. And she IS a personality.

• She waits at the window when she hears my car pull up.
• She wiggles with joy when I wake up in the morning.
• She cuddles me and tucks her leg around mine to ensure I can’t go anywhere.
• If I ask her “Do you love your Mum?” She gets excited as she knows she is about to get fuss.
• She knows the names of all her dog friends.
• She rests her chin on my shoulder and gives “real” hugs, without being prompted.
• She listens to me singing and chatting nonsense and never complains.
• When I dance, she joins in.
• We play silly games, like “Scrump that Rump”, “Get-get-get”, and other things that must drive the neighbours barmy.
• She is NEVER not pleased to see me.

As a behaviourist and a trainer, I NEVER want her to be perfect. I want her to be herself — her happy, loving, loyal, friendly, cheeky, funny self.

She is my friend. My family.

And she will NEVER be “just a pet”.