Love Like a Dog

Some years ago, my family had never owned a dog. Neither had my grandparents' family nor my great-grandparents' family before them. So, I set about to change all that.

In the summer of 2023, I adopted a 3-month-old, runt-of-the-litter corgi. Spot has big ears (which he rarely uses for listening), big brown eyes (which he frequently uses for begging), and an overwhelming amount of attitude for someone who stood only 12 inches off the ground.

Since owning a dog, I’ve been forced to notice the other dog owners at the park, restaurants, hiking trails, and Facebook groups— married couples, singles, families with children, college students, and older people. The relationship each one has with their dog is personal and distinct. But what I see again and again is that people are proud of their dogs, proud of the way that they run, proud of how they nose around with their friends, proud of the tiny stick they found, proud of their bravery to play in the water or how they are smart enough to avoid it.

People seem to love their dogs with an unrestrained acceptance that they rarely demonstrate for other humans. I want to learn to love like this, the way we love our dogs, with such pride and enthusiasm and a complete amnesia for faults.

This past year raising Spot has been a whirlwind, almost like caring for a child—ensuring he's well-socialized, calm in public, and always minding his manners. Yet through it all, he remains the steadfast part of what I’m proud to call home. As a college kid raising essentially, what is a toddler, I’ve learned to measure the success of my relationships by its challenges,  because if we can’t love someone at their most imperfect, what use is love?