Mother’s Day is coming up. As the dog in this household, I have a few thoughts.
I’m Jasper, and I live with my humans. My mom is my primary person. She’s the one who takes me on most of the walks. She’s the one who knows my tells — when I want to go out, when I’m bored, when I’m anxious about something, when I just need someone to sit with me.
She’s the one who takes me kayaking and lets me sit in the front like a co-captain. She’s the one who planned the RV setup to make sure I’d be comfortable. She found the pool cover in the fall and feels the same amount of guilt about it that I do.
She’s pretty great. I thought Mother’s Day was a good occasion to say so.
What Makes a Great Dog Mom
I’ve thought about this, and I have criteria.
She learns my language. Dogs communicate in ways that aren’t always obvious. My mom has learned what my different barks mean. She knows the difference between my “someone is at the door” bark and my “I see a squirrel” bark and my “I am bored and need attention” bark. These are entirely different barks. The fact that she can tell them apart means she’s been paying attention for years. That counts.
She takes the bad days seriously. When I’m not feeling like myself, she notices. Not just big things like limping or not eating. She notices when my energy is a little off, when I’m quieter than usual, when something is wrong that I can’t explain. She checks in. She adjusts. That’s care.
She finds adventures that work for both of us. Kayaking works for both of us. The RV works for both of us. Trail hikes work for both of us. She didn’t just find things she wanted to do and bring me along — she found things we genuinely both love. That’s thoughtful.
She doesn’t make me wear ridiculous things. Okay, there have been some occasions. The Halloween situation. But in general, she respects my dignity. This is appreciated.
She’s home. Whatever else is going on, wherever we are, wherever the RV is parked, if she’s there, that’s home. That’s the most important thing.
What I Try to Do in Return
I want to be honest: I’m not always easy.
I bark at things I shouldn’t bark at. I get mud on the floor. I occasionally steal socks (I never chew them, I just collect them, I don’t know why). I wake people up sometimes when I think it’s morning and it’s 5 AM. I am not perfect.
But here’s what I try to do.
I stay close when I sense she needs company. I know the difference between when she wants me nearby and when she wants space. I sit next to her when something seems hard. I don’t ask for anything in those moments. I just stay.
I’m very happy to see her. Every time. Even if she was only gone for ten minutes. This is genuine, not performed. I am just genuinely happy when she comes back.
I try to be a dog she’s proud to have. A dog who behaves well enough on trails that we can go back. A dog who’s good enough around other people that she doesn’t have to apologize. Most of the time I manage this. Some of the time.
Happy Mother’s Day
To my mom, and to all the dog moms reading this:
The dogs in your life can’t say this out loud. But they feel it. The walks you take even when it’s cold. The vet appointments you stress about more than we do. The belly rubs you give without being asked. The way you say our names.
We notice. We appreciate it. We love you back.
Happy Mother’s Day. 🐾