The Men Who Said They Didn’t Want a Dog

Somewhere between the first walk and surrendering half the bed, they became dog dads.

There is a particular kind of dog dad who begins the story by insisting that he does not want a dog.

He may already have a list of perfectly sensible objections. Dogs are expensive. They make holidays more complicated. Somebody will have to walk it in the rain, and that somebody had better not be him. If the rest of the household is determined to go ahead, there will at least be rules. The dog will not be allowed upstairs, will never sleep on the bed and certainly will not be fed from the table.

Six months later, he is lying uncomfortably along one edge of the mattress because the dog looks peaceful and he does not want to disturb her.

Nobody needs to mention the rules. Their disappearance has already been noted.

The rules rarely survive

Some dog dads surrender slowly. At first, they simply happen to be the person who takes the dog out in the morning. Then they begin checking the weather before bed, choosing a longer route on Sundays and keeping an old towel by the door for muddy paws. Soon the dog has a better waterproof coat than anyone else in the house.

Others commit almost immediately. They buy everything. There is a bed in each room, a selection of harnesses for different occasions and a cooling mat that, in all likelihood, has its own cooling mat. Every purchase is carefully defended as necessary, even when the dog has shown no interest in it whatsoever.

The man who wanted no part in choosing a dog can become remarkably invested in finding the right joint supplement. He may spend half an hour comparing the ingredients in two nearly identical bags of treats, then give the dog a piece of his toast while he thinks about it.

Training can bring out another side of him. One successful “paw” becomes a repertoire of tricks performed for every visitor who comes through the door. The dog is expected to demonstrate spins, high fives, middle and “go and get your duck”, while the audience offers the enthusiastic response they have correctly understood is required.

There are also the dads who take the dog everywhere. A quick trip to buy milk becomes an outing for two. Weekends are arranged around walks, holidays around dog-friendly accommodation and pub choices around whether there is enough space beneath the table. Eventually, the dog has visited more places than most people and appears in almost every photograph from the past five years.

By then, the pair are a package deal. Invite one and there is a reasonable chance the other will turn up too.

Somewhere along the way, they become a team

The humour of the reluctant dog dad is familiar because the transformation is so easy to recognise. The objections were genuine, as were the proposed boundaries. What changed was not simply that the dog wore him down, although a determined face beside the sofa can achieve a great deal. It was that the dog became part of his daily life before he had fully noticed it happening.

Dogs are good at building relationships through repetition. They wait beside the door at the same time each morning. They learn the sound of a familiar car and the difference between somebody opening the fridge and somebody opening the cupboard where the treats live. They choose who to sit beside in the evening and whose footsteps are worth getting up for.

In return, their dads learn just as much. They know which patch of grass must be thoroughly inspected on every walk, which noise will bring the dog running and exactly how long a silence from the next room can be trusted. They can read the difference between tired, worried and quietly plotting something from a glance.

The bond is not always particularly dignified. It may involve lengthy conversations conducted in a voice never used with another human being. It can mean spending an evening on the floor because the dog has fallen asleep against one leg, or leaving a perfectly good chair empty because “that’s where she sits”. In some homes, Mum is left to enforce the rules while Dad gives the dog another biscuit and claims not to have heard the discussion.

There are dads who are openly devoted and dads who pretend every cuddle was the dog’s idea. Some document each walk; others keep affection tucked inside practical jobs such as filling bowls, checking paws and making sure the lead is hanging where it should be. The language varies, but the dog understands all of it.

That is perhaps what makes the relationship feel so straightforward. A dog does not care whether somebody once claimed not to like dogs. She cares that he came home, that he remembered the walk and that there is room beside him on the sofa. She knows who makes her feel safe.

Once a dog dad, always a dog dad

Father’s Day can also carry a quieter meaning for the men whose dogs are no longer here.

When a dog has been woven into the structure of everyday life, their absence is felt in ordinary places. There is no reason to take the familiar route around the park, but your feet still turn towards it. For a while, you listen for movement in another room or glance towards the space where the bed used to be. You find a lead at the back of a cupboard, hair beneath a car seat or an old photograph you had forgotten somebody took.

The habits disappear gradually. The love does not.

A dog can occupy a relatively short part of a human life and still divide it into a before and an after. The man who originally agreed to a dog for everyone else may be the one who feels that empty space most sharply. He did not expect the walks, the routines or the responsibility to become so important, and he certainly did not expect to miss them.

There may be another dog one day, although that is never a replacement. There may not. Either way, the relationship remains part of him. Once you have measured time in morning walks, shared the end of your dinner and rearranged yourself around a sleeping dog, the title tends to stick.

So, happy Father’s Day to the dog dads who bought too much, abandoned every rule and quietly became somebody’s favourite person. Happy Father’s Day to the dads currently sharing their pillow, carrying treats in every coat pocket or turning a quick walk into an hour because the dog is enjoying herself.

And to the dog dads remembering someone they would give anything to walk beside again, this day belongs to you too.