Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and Laurel and I put up a link on Facebook to an article that Karen London wrote in Bark about making Mother’s Day more inclusive, adding in women who care for dogs into the picture. (Laurel is my social media queen; she helps me with Facebook and Instagram and I kiss the ground she walks on on a weekly basis for doing so.) I shouldn’t be surprised at some of the reactions–motherhood is about as primal as it gets, and clearly the article hit a nerve. It also got a large range of reactions, from “I think of myself as my dog’s mother,” to “How dare you compare caring for a dog with raising a child!”
As I often do on Sunday, I stayed off line most of yesterday, and focused on my husband, my dogs and my garden. (And oh yeah, the crab cakes I made last night. Yum.) But once I was snuggled into bed last night I somehow couldn’t resist checking email, which led to checking Facebook, which led to lying in bed thinking about who are we to our dogs? In our perception, if not language?
So here I go, into the breach, for no other reason than I am truly, deeply curious about how we categorize ourselves in regards to our dogs. Here’s my take on it:
First, take a breath and bear with me here, I do indeed call myself my dog’s owner. I understand that many will take issue with that, but the fact is, they are my dogs. I initially capitalized the word “my,” because I can’t stress enough that no one has the right to do anything, anything (do you see how I stopped myself from using capitals again?) to my dogs without my permission. I feel as possessive of my dogs as I’ve ever felt about anything. I am reminded of a woman who introduced her boyfriend thus: “This is John. My John.” I loved her instantly for it.
But, of course, “owner” is completely inadequate. I also own a car and some plants and a microwave, and putting dogs into the same category (as the law often does) is offensive and absurd.
My dogs are part of my family, purely and simply. Do I then put them in the same category as my husband and his grandchildren? My sisters? My nieces and nephew? No. But do I love Maggie and Skip, care for them, protect them, and cherish them as integral parts of my family? Yes. Do I have a deeply-rooted emotional connection with them? Yes. As we all know, in recent years there has been a trend to call ourselves “guardians,” and I welcome its attempt to acknowledge that dogs are sentient creatures who many of us consider as parts of our family, and we could no more “own” them than we could another member of our family.
I’m okay also calling myself my dog’s guardians, but the word doesn’t begin to capture our relationship. Legally, guardians are people appointed by law to make decisions for their “wards” and represent their personal and financial interests. In many ways, they have far fewer rights than owners to care for an individual, and there is no suggestion that guardians have an emotional attachment to their charges. So, from my perspective, I am both my dog’s owner and their guardian, and both terms are painfully inadequate.
Am I my dog’s mother? Should I be celebrated for that on Mother’s Day? Here’s where the rubber met the road–or perhaps I should say, the flower arrangement met the breakfast in bed–on Facebook. I personally don’t think of myself as my dog’s mother or parent, even though I fill some of those roles. However, I truly appreciate Dr. London’s column, the one that started all this, for its acknowledgement that Mother’s Day is not a happy holiday for many people, and that being more inclusive is one way to ameliorate that. I say that as a woman who desperately wanted children in her thirties, and who cried off and on for years for the lack of them, and, abashedly, admit to snapping at wait staff who relentlessly greeted me as a mother at restaurants on Mother’s Day. I actually once said (cringe), “No, I’m not a mother, and it breaks my heart. Thanks for reminding me.” Ouch.
One of my favorite columnists, Margaret Renkl, wrote a beautiful piece in the NYT about the range of feelings that Mother’s Day evokes. Here’s just a bit of it:
Mother’s Day is a saccharine invention, a national fairy tale in a nation that does almost nothing to support mothers. But it is also a day for contemplating the ways in which we’re connected to one another, through times of joy and times of sorrow, across time and across species. So my children will come over for brunch, and I will set out mealworms for the bluebirds to feed their babies.
[I should note here: This is a male bluebird feeding one of his babies. A good reminder that this issue may have been motivated by Mother’s Day, but the issue relates to both men and women.]
I love Ms. Renkl’s focus on life giving life, and on the connections between us all, because that’s what our relationship with dogs is all about–our connection, miracle that it is, to dogs. Lucky us.
One last thing: I have no problem with people who think of themselves as their dog’s parent, it just doesn’t fit for me. I don’t see it as demeaning to those who have or are raising children, but I can understand why some might think so. Also (please be kind here), I’ve never been big fan of the term “furbaby.” I think of my dogs, once they are are grown, as adult, sentient, intelligent individuals, so it’s the “baby” part that doesn’t feel right to me. And yet, because dogs are unable to use complex language and are relatively helpless, it’s understandable to compare them in some ways to young human children.
I talk about this at length in For the Love of a Dog, as part of why we love dogs so much–they are both helpless in many ways (can’t open doors or feed themselves) and evoke our hard-wired nurturing instincts, and at the same time give us the unconditional love we all wanted from our parents. So in that sense, dogs are both our kids and our parents. How do we come up with a term for that?
I have no answers here about how we should describe our relationship to our dogs. But I’m curious what you think, and what terms you use to describe yourself with/to your dogs. Henry Beston, in the Outermost House, best sums up where I am right now with all of this:
“We need another and a wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate for having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein do we err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours, they move finished and complete, gifted with the extension of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings: they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.”
Caught up in the net of life. Me and Skip. Me and Maggie. Yup, that’s us.
MEANWHILE, back on the farm: Maggie and Skip had a chiropractic appointment last week, and I don’t work them on sheep on the same day. This was their response that evening.
Maggie came up slightly lame a few days ago, so she’s not allowed to play or work sheep right now until it gets sorted out. But we took the dogs on a lovely leash walk on Sunday so that they could enjoy new smells. Here Jim is trying to encourage Maggie to pose for the camera:
I snapped a shot of the tree shadows of the trees at a Brigham Park, I love the patterns they made.
A friend asked for a barn rehab update recently, so here’s a shot of the old and the new. Our major barn project is almost done, we’re just waiting for the last grading to be done around the outside, and then we can get to painting all the new concrete and seeding the area around it. I rather like this image of old/new/inside/outside. (I asked them to keep the little window you see on the right, because the sheep like to stick their heads in it and look at me when I’m in the barn. What makes that so charming? No idea, but why not keep it?)
Not many special photos today, too busy working like a field hand in the garden. And will have to move all the tender plants I’ve purchased inside tonight, as well as covering up all the lilies. Getting a bit old, have to say. Maybe tomorrow I can plant?
But I’ll take lots of breaks, and look forward to reading about who you call yourself–male or female–in relation to our dogs.
LisaW says
Your timing, as usual, is spot on. I did not have children – partly it was a decision to not add to the population growth, partly I took a long time to “settle down” after many adventures (some great, some good, and some not-so-much), partly because I never really had the deep emotional or physical yearnings, and partly because we had a lot of friends’ kids, nephews, and nieces come stay with us at various times so that may have quenched any mild thirst I may have had. I also didn’t feel the replication urge, and I don’t regret not having children.
I called my 97-year-old mother yesterday to wish her happy mother’s day among other things. I have called her every day since March 15, 2020. We’ve had some far-ranging talks and some free-wheeling word associations that require me to guess quickly what she’s meaning (flying letters = email, etc.). Some calls last 5 minutes and others 45 minutes. It’s been a gift to have had these moments with her despite the reason why.
I wished her a happy mother’s day yesterday, and she said, “Thank you, dear. You, too.” I said, “Thanks, even through I’m not a mother.” To which she replied, “You’ve had five dogs, haven’t you?” My dogs have spanned the past 40 years, and I was touched she’d remember the number and a little uncomfortable at the mother association. She wasn’t much of a dog (or any animal) person when we were growing up, but has become much more interested in what we are interested in, which in my case are my dogs. So, I thanked her and left the mother piece to ruminate about later. Then I opened your post, and voila!
I don’t consider myself my dogs’ mother or owner. I’m their person and they are my dogs. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship for the most part (although I’m not sure Olive would agree 😉 I’ve lived with the same person for the past 40+ years, and he is my person, and I am his person. I think the same way about the man and the dogs (relative to this conversation) – I love them, I live with them, I take care of them, I learn from them, we play, we grump, we grow old – we are family. I could not imagine life without any of them. I still grieve over the dogs we have known and lived with over these many years; in my pining there is deep gratitude for how they have changed my life.
I don’t know what you would call this dog/person relationship. Most of the words conjure a hierarchy of some kind (and I’m with you on furbaby). We need hierarchy-neutral nomenclature. I’m tempted to go with ally, partner, or simply their name.
PS. I love Margaret Renkl, too.
Kat says
He is my dog and I am his person. That’s where I’ve landed after years of trying to find language that describes our relationship. My dog with all the love, responsibilities, and connections implied by “My.” His person with all the reliance, connection, and love implied. The relationship I work to establish with my dogs is a partnership where we can rely on each other. When D’Artagnan expressed great reluctance to continue on a trail down into a ravine and encouraged us to turn around and go back we listened. I have no idea what he was picking up about the bottom of the ravine but if he tells me it’s a bad idea to continue I’m going to rely on his more acute senses and abandon that hike. If I tell him he can’t get out of the back of the car until it’s safe he’ll listen to me because I’m better at assessing human problems. We’re partners. He can do things for me (finding things by scent, seeing better in the dark, etc.) and I can do things for him (opening doors, driving the car, etc.) we need each other.
When we adopted Ranger, my first dog as an adult, I actually spent time considering what name he should know me by. With two kids in the house it was obvious the name he’d hear applied to me the most was Mom. Consequently, I decided it was logical that he also know me as Mom. What I’ve found interesting is that when family put words in his mouth Ranger would call me Mom. Finna called me The Moms. And D’Artagnan calls me The Mom. I have two adult children and it strikes me that The Mom is how they seem to regard me these days. I’m still their mother and they rely on me for counsel and advice, for help with challenges, and a secure anchor when needed but they’re independent adults capable of looking after themselves and making their own decisions. There’s a certain similarity between being The Mom to adults and to a dog. He’ll always be more dependent for help with physical tasks than they are but like them he’s a smart, independent, capable adult able to make his own decisions and interact with the world on his own behalf, he just needs more support from me to be able to do that. I’m partners with my dogs in ways I won’t be with my offspring.
Margaret says
I think of myself as their human. I’m not sold on any of the others (I was once savaged in an online discussion for DARING to compare caring for dogs with giving birth to children; it left a mark.) I am their owner under the law, making their care my responsibility, and also making me responsible for their actions. Guardian I find a bit twee and legally inaccurate.
I’m the taller half of the Obedience team.
Al says
I’m a child-free (by choice) 35-year old woman. My dogs are family, but they are NOT children, and I am definitely not their mother. I, too, take issue with “furbaby” and tend to have a very visceral reaction to being called their “Mommy” by people who meet us in passing. I refer to myself as their owner, but settle for “their human” or “their person” if we must be cute about it all. (However, if you were to ask my two hellions, I figure they would simply call me “food-lady-and-warm-lap-person” because good luck trying to convince chihuahua mixes that they are “owned”! In their eyes, I’m just lucky to spend time in their presence.)
It’s a tough word to find, because “owner” can feel like a one-way relationship, and we know it’s more than that, but “child” is far more profound of a relationship than we can have with a dog can have, I think.
Frances says
They are my dogs and I am their human, just as I am the cats’ human. I mothered them when they were young, and still do when they need that kind of comfort; the care they need as they age is very reminiscent of making life as good as possible for my parents in their last months; the companionship, laughter and occasional irritation and minor squabbles might remind me of living with my sisters, but they are not humans and they are not my children nor my siblings. And they are most certainly not babies! Perhaps we need some new words…
Jan says
I loved your post and totally echo your comments. In jest, when it’s just me and the dogs, I’ve referred to myself as their mommy, such as, “listen to mommy or you’ll get in trouble”, but I seriously do NOT prefer that term. Owner yes, but if I were to find the closest accurate term for me, it’s “Companion” and maybe I’d call myself “Provider”. Those are not words I’d ever use in everyday conversation, but nevertheless, they are close, though still incomplete.
Teddy says
Thank you so much for writing about this topic. I’m another person without children, but (now) a long history of dogs. I loved the Henry Beston quote and will try to find the book. I also really dislike the word furbaby, for the reasons you wrote.
I guess in general, I’ll settle for “owner” when talking about my relationship to my dogs in casual conversation. But here are some other recurring thoughts: When I first put a collar on a new puppy (and then on many mornings, for the rest of the dog’s life), I think of it like putting on a wedding ring – the sign of a covenant, a promise that I am making to the dog. When I am agonizing over a euthanasia decision, I think about the concept of “stewardship” a lot — taking loving and wise care of another creature over whom I happen to have “dominion.” And after I have euthanized a dog, the word that makes me cry the hardest is “friend” – I grieve because I have lost one of my very dearest friends.
Debby Gray says
Wow! I’ve been thinking about this overnight and I’m not sure I have a better handle on this topic now than I did 12 hours ago.
Yes I am the owner of the 3 dogs I’ve had as an adult….but what about the dog I had as a child who was “my dog”?
But I think I’ve had a different relationship to each of the dogs in my adult life. My first dog saw me through a grad school program and then a first job in a new field. And the only job I could get required me to live away from home during the work. I could not have done that without having MAC with me through it all.. I saw him as my partner and companion.
My next dog was bonded to me like glue, introducing new people to her small circle of human friends was always a challenge. Once she accepted a new person she bonded to them as well
Guardian might have been the best description of my relationship with her.
I think the 3 years I’ve had with Monty has not been long enough to figure out the relationship I have with him. It is complicated for sure. Sometimes “therapist” seems to be the best description of my relationship with Monty.
But after all this reflection, I think that to the rest of the world “owner” is still the best word to describe the complex relationship I have had with these three dogs…with the understanding that they have owned me too.
Tracey says
I am my dogs owner. To call myself anything else opens the door for animal rights groups to
take away my legal rights to my personal property. They have been trying to do this for decades by petitioning elected officials to give our pets human rights under the guise of “feel good” legislation.
Beth says
Love the barn photo (and that you’re keeping the sheep window). Animal observers always make barn chores more enjoyable.
Hollis Sensenig says
I’ve never used the terms “dog parent” or “furbaby.”
But I’m not offended by use of those terms.
I will use “dog owner” to describe myself. Or “dog companion.”
Barbara says
I like the word caretaker (or maybe it should be caregiver?) in the sense that I love my dog and try to take good care of him. In return, he is always there for me. I guess you could say we are each other’s caretaker.
Billie says
I am my dog’s “person” who provides him with the necessities of life (Food/water/touch). I look out for him and he, in his own way, looks out for me. We have become “one” with each other. I’ve used the term “mommy says” often, but I’m not his “mommy” but a “caregiver” of sorts and he gives that back to me with his unconditional devotion. I train/teach him (teacher); he is the “student”. I “police ” him with a watchful eye, but I’m not a “policeman” and he is being mischievously curious, needs “direction”, but I’m not a “director”. Together our bonding has become a journey; he has become my “buddy”, my ‘friend”, my “supporter”, he uplifts me. I am his “person” who looks after him. We have become a “team” that nurtures each other’s soul.
Julie H. says
Right with you on everything. We do need a better word. I have used the words “owner” and “human” and “dog mom/dad”. My husband and I talk to the dogs using “mommy” and “daddy” and our dogs recognize those as our names. (If we say “Where’s mommy/daddy?” they run to the right person.) When someone asks if I have children I say “just four-legged ones”. And for years I have had part of that Henry Beston quote, in beautiful script, ready to go on a t-shirt.
Mason says
I tend to use “H.C” (Human Companion or Human Caretaker) most often.
That said, whenever I “fail” my dogs (e.g. suggest a different walk route than the one they want to take, or handle a barky outburst from the dog mob at three a.m. in a less than ideal way) , I sometimes discuss with them what a Mean Mommy I can be. So parental terminology creeps in, and not in a way that my feminist self approves of!
Mary says
I am childless by choice and I love my dogs because they are dogs, not humans. If I wanted a child, I would have had one or adopted one. I did not. I prefer dogs and I respect dogs for being dogs. I don’t treat my dogs as if they are humans. I also work in Family Law so the terms “parent” and “guardian” are legally defined.
And I love Margaret Renkl’s columns which are full of nature and love for life.
Mary Sue says
I too echo your comments on this thorny issue. I found myself struggling this year in particular with the many Facebook posts about “dog moms” because my older and younger daughters now have children but my warm and nurturing middle daughter does not (and it is now clear that she will not). But she and her partner do have dogs. So, I made a post including “pet parents”. Because pets are family too. And I hope it was received in the loving way it was intended.
But, frankly, I do not think of myself as my dog’s Mom. I share many of the thoughts of others here. And I have been thinking that my nicknames him reveal my feelings…when he was very small, I called him “Puppy”. In his adolescence, I often said “ Charlie-boy”. And now he’s an adult, I frequently call him “Charles”.
When strangers in the park say “What a a nice dog”, I usually respond that he’s a “wonderful companion”. That’s how I think of him, he’s my companion. I hope he thinks of me that way too.
Luann says
The conflict of the Word Police has slithered its way into the realm of dog and human relationships.
Why is it anyone else’s business – other than a personal point (agenda/opinion/blahblahblah) -one feels must be proved – what term one would use to define their role in a dog/human relationship? Do actions – not – still speak louder than words?
The truth is the dog couldn’t give two shits about how a person refers to oneself with regard to itself and the relationship between it and a human – it’s a dog.
Call yourself whatever you want, respect what others want to call themselves, let it go and enjoy the relationship you have with your dog.
Lots of people call me an asshole, and I respect that.
Peace out, y’all.
Charlotte Kasner says
As ever, thank you, thank you, thank you. This sums up to a T how I feel about my dogs. I was most definitely their owner, not their guardian, because that comes with legal obligations and, if push came to shove, it might have needed to dictate how I related them.
I am a different species so am most definitely not their mother; I don’t like children and made absolutely sure that I would never get pregnant, so they are not child substitutes, nor do I treat them as such. (Guess that deals with the “fur baby” too). Dogs can do so much more than human children (and in some ways less) and deserve to be appreciated for what they are in their own right. They are not substitutes for adult humans either.
It is actually really important how we designate verbally our relationship with dogs as, in the same ways the names that we choose for them, it underlines our attitude and actions towards them. There is pressure here in England and Wales to change the law that regards dogs as chattels which has partly arisen because of the massive increase in dog theft during Covid-19 restrictions. Many people feel that dogs (and other companion animals) need to be treated differently from inanimate property in order to impose penalties that reflect the emotional relationship and the sentience of the animal.
One of our national veterinary charities produces an annual report investigating the welfare of dogs, cats and rabbits kept as companion animals. “The inaugural PAW Report in 2011 painted a stark picture of UK pets as ‘Stressed. Lonely. Overweight. Bored. Aggressive. Misunderstood … but loved.’” The current report shows little change since then.
It seems a peculiar demonstration of “love” to me.
So language is important in affecting the way that people act. “Owner” may sound to some harsh but it probably denotes a recognition of canine needs more than the sentimental designations that may produce a warm glow in some but not necessarily the follow-through.
Deb DiPietro says
I have always hated being called my dogs’ mom. I have had actual children and they were a lot more work than any dog could be. My dogs are definitely not children, nor do I treat them as such. I’ve always considered my dogs to be my companions, and I theirs. The term ‘fur-baby’ makes me wince, but perhaps ‘fur-buddy’ might be an acceptable option.
Sharon says
I’ve been about this a lot, and I think we need a different word. Our relationship with our pets isn’t like any other relationship and any attempt to use words that define relationships will inevitably fail.
I am a mother to three grown children. They no longer live at home nor do they need my care. However, they are and will always remain my children. The love I feel for them is unlike any other.
I feel like a mother to my pets in a lot of ways. But it’s not the same. It’s not less than, necessarily, just different. It’s like a combination of friend and family.
I recently had to say goodbye to my beautiful, sweet dog because her cancer had advanced too much for her to live comfortably. The grief I feel is deep and profound. She lived with me, loved me, needed me, enjoyed being with me. My days revolved around her needs and wants, in ways big and small. The hole in my life is huge. Every activity in my day, every corner of my home, every street in my neighborhood holds memories.
We need a different word, a new word, because the relationship is unique and cannot fit any word we already have.
Cheryl says
I’m touchy about Mother’s day. I put a lot of effort into thinking about every Mom I wish a happy day. Are their kids still around? Are they in touch? Is their own mom still alive? Would this be a happy day for them or a sad reminder of something they’ve lost? I think about these things because I’m not a mom, by choice. That makes me an outsider in more ways than one, and while not being a mom doesn’t bother me at all, it irks me when others think they have to come up with a creative way to rope me into celebrating this Hallmark Holiday. For me, that usually means they pretend my pets are my children. They. Are. Not. They also like to remind me that I have a Mother-in-law, but love her as much as I do, she’s not my mommy. My mother is deceased and I never had children, so while I support moms in celebrating their “special” day, please don’t try to convince me that it’s my special day too. After decades of being told I couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to be a mother, I’m not going to suddenly join ranks and pretend I have the mother card. I don’t. And nothing makes that more clear to me than when one of my dogs dies. Unlike you if you lost one of your children, I’ll go right out and get another and move on.. In fact, that pattern has repeated itself nearly more than a dozen times over my lifetime, which makes me quite familiar with grief, but it still doesn’t make me a mother.
Wendy S. Katz says
I think of our relationship as a partnership. My dogs have gifts and abilities I can’t match. Molly can zero in on a fledgeling chickadee nestled almost invisibly against the base of a tree, as if there were a flashing neon sign around it. I would have walked past and never known. She and other of my dogs have displayed a profound social wisdom that never fails to impress me. So I enjoy the ways our strengths and weaknesses complement and am proud to call them partners. But I don’t mind when people call me their Mom.
I love the sheep window.
Bill says
When out in public with the dogs such as obedience class, I consider myself a dog owner.
When at home in a more personal situation it’s Mom or Dad.
I’ll tell the dogs “your Mom is home” when she is getting home from work.
It’s just an easier way to refer to us as the care givers I guess.
Don’t use “fur babies”but do use “ fur kids” sometimes but usually just “the dogs”.
Thanks for the barn renovation update. Keep the barn pics coming!
MinnesotaMary says
My dogs are my little loves, or my sweet boys. It is a difficult relationship to corral with a simple description.
lak says
I don’t really care what anyone thinks about what I call my dog. That is my business, the fact that it would disturb anyone I find really baffling. My dog…my business. If I want to refer to my dog as my friend/companion, baby, furbaby, kid, whatever, that has nothing to do with anyone else. For those who feel it diminishes any of their relationships…Get over yourself I say. This is precisely the reason I prefer my dogs’ company over some people!
Carole says
Once again, another thought provoking post. I agree with “He is my dog and I am his person.” I have four grown children to whom I am Mom. I think my three dogs might describe me as “food lady who takes us for walks and throws the ball for fetch”. (To the cats I am probably “the servant”.) I am constantly annoyed by the terms “furbaby” and “pet parent”. Years ago, when I was doing private training, I met people who I swear could have described the birth pangs that produced their bratty puppy. Expecting a dog to behave like a child is completely unfair to the dog. When I suggested a crate to a woman who had an UN-housebroken GSD, she was appalled… “I wouldn’t put my child in a cage!” Well, neither would I, but this is a dog, not a human. It has been my experience that myriad problems with dogs arise from people expecting them to behave like a child. I have loved all the dogs I have owned in my life, but I have never seen them as my children.
Chris Wells says
What a thought provoking question and what wonderfully thought out responses. First, I believe we are family. I am sure my dogs see this family as the pack they are a part of. How they became part of this pack/family is irrelevant, but in truth was not of the dog’s choosing in most cases. I say most cases because Molly, our rescue Golden ran and jumped in our car the day we went to see her to escape her situation at the time. I am their owner, responsible for their care and wellbeing, but the word owner doesn’t imply commitment, loyalty or the love that exists between us in this family. As so many have said, maybe there needs to be a new word for what we really are. I am a human, a person, a mom…I don’t know what they think my name is.
Liz Shaw says
This seems like such a fraught thing for people. Owner, guardian, partner are all words I am comfortable with. I am less so with “mom” but it is such a common way people describe a dog’s female human that I let it slide and occasionally find myself using the word. And one can have quite mature relationships and partnerships with parents as an adult and still call them “mom” and “dad”.
But “furbaby” seems so diminishing to the dog. Dogs are not babies and they are not helpless or unintelligent. Far too often I find people calling dogs “Dumb” or “Stupid” when the dog is far, far from that. And when they infantilize dogs they take away choice and volition for the dog. Somehow the term “furbaby” unless it really is a puppy, takes away from their autonomy. When I was doing pet dog training, far too often the owner’s difficulty with training was because they didn’t recognize the intelligence and will of the creature in front of them and instead worked to squelch it. If I got someone to recognize that perhaps what they perceived as “stubborn” or “stupid” was “not motivated because it doesn’t make sense” the training suddenly took off. The danger of “furbaby” is that doesn’t recognize the dog as sentient and smart in their own right. It somehow diminishes the amazing creatures they are and the remarkable partnerships we have had with them for centuries and centuries – whether hunting, herding, guarding or their understanding and supporting humans emotionally.
As someone who works with my dogs as partners – whether they are herding sheep or guarding them, I know they sense and understand things that I don’t. There are days when my jaw drops in amazement at their intelligence and heart. They can be our full partners in many endeavors. While it is true that I provide direction and the structure for the task at hand, they do parts of the job that I can not. And honestly the longer I work with them the more I am willing to consider their “opinion” because often they have some insight. When we combine our talents and have clear communication the result is nothing less than amazing. No “baby” can have that sort of partnership with an adult human.
Of course, I feed them, control where they are, “give” them access to the jobs they love. And so partnership isn’t a complete description.
The fact is that we exploit animals – whether we use them to help us on the farm, on the beat or as pets. We have a complicated relationship with them that isn’t without strings attached. Finding a term that respects rather than infantilizes them seems important to me, even if it doesn’t encompass all of the complexity of our relationships. Ultimately it is for our own good – because the day we recognize all that they bring to the table, the bettter our ability to live and partner with them.
Ducky & Bogie's MOM says
I’m one of those women without human offspring of my own, though I do have a stepson whom I love dearly (as well as his wife and their four children). The dogs I grew up with were my canine sisters; the dogs I’ve raised myself – or with hubby – are my canine kids/”furbabies”/and I figure since I/we take care of them, play with them, etc., I/we have a right to call myself/ourselves anything we want to. And to those who say “how dare you…” I say basically “if you don’t like it, lump it, because I really don’t care.” I will refer to my dogs and our relationship however I please, period. I’m too old to give a da** what other people think, especially people who know nothing about me. I’m WAY past that point in my life. And I’m also way past caring how other people see their relationships with their own dogs – it’s their business, not mine.
Terry says
Interesting discussion. I am legally my dog’s owner but I think of myself more as the Senior Partner in our relationship. He has capabilities I don’t such as the ability to retrieve something out of my reach. I buy his food and pay the vet bills . I have a wonderful child and my dog is not my child but I am bonded with him on a daily basis and my child is an adult with his own life and no longer in my house. The Dog is here with me daily. Friend is not quite right because I have a responsibility for my dog that I don’t have for my friends .
So the search for perfect word goes on. I’ll have to string them together and say partner/owner/friend.
Jen says
Love this post. Thank you!
We are different roles to each other at different times. In the eyes of the law, I am happily the owner. For most activities we do together, I think of them as my buddies. And while I joke that I want to retire and be a stay-at-home dog mom, I don’t really think of myself as a mom to dogs because human kids grow up and become independent –at least in theory–we are the bow, and kids are the arrows we shoot out into the world. Dogs, on the other hand, once out of the puppy stage are fully mature species with whom we have the fortune of sharing space and time, and they depend on us their entire lives. And while in many ways I depend on them as well, especially emotionally and for companionship, I often like to think of myself as their humble servant with opposable thumbs.
Now for the sake of family-life titles, I will admit that my husband and I privately refer to each other as Mom and Daddy when we’re talking to our dogs. For example, “Where’s Daddy? Go get him! ” Or “Go with Mom” pointing in my direction on an off-leash walk through the woods. Publicly, I always refer to them
as my dogs or introduce them to others by their names. And although I do not refer to them as “furbabies” or think of them in that somewhat infantilizing way, I do not take offense if a well-meaning stranger does. To me, that’s a welcome recognition by society at large that dogs are family, too.
Sheryl says
I have owned guinea pigs, cats, hamsters and dogs (not at the same time). I also have adult children who I adore beyond words.
I owned the guinea pigs and hamsters (loved them to pieces). I had a relationship of mutual respect and affection with my cats. My relationship with my dogs has simply been different than that with those other animals. There is a connection that goes beyond “pet.” Clive Wynne’s book Dog is Love felt like affirmation for what I felt about this special bond. I am more than their owner. I am more than a guardian. My current dog eats carefully chosen dog food and is trained using positive reinforcement to build our communication and relationship.
Come to “Ownie!” “Hear that! Mr. Smith is home!!” Don’t sound right. “Come to Mommy” and “Daddy is home” feel like much easier terms of endearment to use for me and my husband when I talk to my dog. Which I do a lot. She’s a good listener.
Labels labels labels. They just seem a reason to argue for no reason. Let’s look at how a human cares for a dog. Providing respect, kindness, safety, health needs, good nutrition and love – ask if the dog’s needs are being met. Ask if the human’s needs in the relationship are also being met. Not if someone uses the term “Mom” as opposed to “Your faithful servant” or “Your two legged roommate!”
Maryann says
THEY are the Guardians and I am both their leader and their waitstaff, but mostly we are a team. Wouldn’t have it any other way and it has worked well with all my Great Pyrenees.
Leslie says
I agree heartily with Luann. How I see my relationship with my dogs is my business. I may cringe a little a “owner” bit that’s my problem, not that of people who use the term. I’ve tried out “guardian” for myself but it feels awkward and contrived. Dogmom feels right to me somedays and silly others. It doesn’t matter. I love them, provide for them, spend way too much money on them, and grieve for them when their lives are over (and for years after). They are the little lights that shine for me in an often dark world.
Emily says
While I choose not to use the term “dog mom,” anyone who would like to refer to themselves that way should go right ahead. Who is it hurting? In no way is it belittling or infringing upon someone else’s relationship or efforts as a mother of human children. There are more important things to worry about!
Charisse says
Sometimes we choose our families, either because we prefer them to our blood family, or because we have no blood family. We choose our dogs to be our companions, often becoming our very best friends. Many dear friends we love as family. They fill in the empty spaces in our lives, they add more humor, empathy, and love. We would do anything for our best friends, so why deny considering dogs as family? If you have seen these dogs using a speech communication board, maybe you can teach them and ask them: https://nypost.com/2019/11/05/watch-this-chatty-dog-use-a-custom-soundboard-to-talk/ or https://www.google.com or here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJCxrc7Ns_g. While watching these, I thought of you Patricia, when you wondered if your Maggie still loved working the sheep. This board might possibly let her tell you once she learned the words. So, many of my dogs became incredible special to me. I still deeply miss a few after many years. Am I their Mom? In terms of the responsibility I take in caring for them, yes. Do I like the term? not really. I prefer to be their friend, their bestie, and visa versa. Yes, their very best friend, because they are full of trust, love, companionship, antics, humor and crushingly, too short of a life.
Jen A says
I don’t take issue with any way someone wants to describe their own relationship with their dogs, but I do think it’s important we recognize how certain groups use language in an effort to push certain agendas. “Guardian” is the most obvious, and is used in legislation to strip “ownership” rights from people over their dogs. “Furbaby” IMO both anthromorphizes and infantilizes dogs in ways that may lead people to forget they are still, after all, dealing with an animal. While I suppose people may think of that as a compliment, it might result in failure to meet the animal’s needs, because we are so busy thinking of ways to make them more human (does the dog really want to wear the Little Bo Peep costume for Halloween?). Great post.
Sue says
Would echo what Liz said about fur baby diminishing the being of the dog. Also dislike memes that use a sort of codified “baby” talk/ spelling while expressing the presumed thoughts of the dog or cat. That said, we all differ greatly in our relationships with the animals in our lives—not to mention the humans and the “pet” names we have for them! (And “pet” sounds diminishing to me.) Because people differ so greatly, if the words others use please them and describe what they derive from their particular relationship, I sure would not quibble about it nor feel the need to comment. All THAT being said, companion sounds too shallow for what has gone on between me and the various animals of my many years. A limited number—one steer and one cat—were best described as adversarial for whatever underlying reason; I could intellectually suss out the behavior but not as easily my response. I have rarely even used the term baby when addressing an animal, just as I might use any term of endearment and without meaning I consider the animal baby-ish. And for that matter, I refer to my early 50’s sons as kids or boys because they have been that to me; as well, I frequently call them sweetie. Come to think of it, I do not call them baby, and I think I have never called an animal sweetie. In sum: It is Complicated!
Maria says
I like “owner.” It denotes my right to keep my dogs and make decisions about them, and it also conveys that I am the person responsible for them — for their welfare, as well as their behavior out in the world. I live in an area with a lot of animal neglect and abuse, and I wish more people would embrace all aspects of ownership, instead of assuming pets are something you can care about when you feel like it and abandon when you get bored or busy.
That said, of course I have all the deep emotional attachment to my dogs that most people have. I sometimes think of myself as a mom to them, and the parent/teacher model is the one that seems to work best for me as I try to figure out how to manage them. But the word that describes my feeling best is “friend.” In fact, I say that to them all the time: “You’re a good friend.” I hope I’m a good friend to them, as well.
Stephen says
Josie is my floof and I’m “the guy with Josie.”
Why must there be a label for everything? Being a mother doesn’t necessarily make one motherly. The same with being a father. Some dog owners will get a dog and feed it and possibly get it to the vet now and again and that’s about it. Others will get a dog and train it to be a good companion or for a working purpose. It’s in that nurturing role when the connections and bonds are made. My bond with my dogs going way back to my first Malamute up to my current Pyr always seemed more primal and impossible to define. I’m good with that.
I have many childless friends that are incredible with their dogs. I see the motherly pride when a down-stay command works, just I see the motherly frustration when they say “come” and their dog looks at them, looks at the squirrel, looks back at them, then bolts after the squirrel. I wish them all a happy Mother’s Day!
Tina S. says
This is a great post, and not something I really gave much thought to until we adopted a dog for our 15 year old daughter. She was adamant that she was not a dog mom, so we go with partner. When my daughter enters the room, we say to her dog, “there’s your girl” or “there’s your Emma.” But for me and my dog, I have no problem being a dog mom. Mothering others is a huge part of my personality so it works for me. I can also understand how others would prefer to use different terms and I am happy to adjust my wording accordingly.
Brenda Neall says
Gramma and Grampa is how we refer to ourselves, when ‘talking’ to and about our pup … lol! … mostly because that’s how we are referred to by the human littles we love and care for.
When having to describe our relationship with our pup, like many others who have commented, I find myself avoiding the words that don’t adequately describe the special relationship that exists … owner, guardian, and such just don’t cut it but I too struggle to find a word that fits. However, now having read your post and the comments of others, I nod my head to the simple concept that he is our dog and we are his people.
Grace says
I don’t understand why people get offended by things that have no impact on their lives. Mother’s Day is not a zero-sum game. If someone feels like a mother to their beloved cat or dog or iguana, that doesn’t mean a mother of human children somewhere loses her privileges.
Of course, if you’ve just had an emergency caesarian after 30 hours in labor and your baby spent 8 days in NICU, you have every right to get upset if someone tries to compare that with potty-training their new puppy. But if someone wants to call their pup their “baby” and feels that their relationship to that pup is just as close or even closer than their relationships with other humans, what difference does it make in my life? None whatsoever.
One of my many nicknames for my dog is “Baby Girl.” I don’t actually think she’s still a baby, she was basically a tween when I adopted her and now she’s four. She certainly has her own mind (she’s a female terrier after all), so there’s little doubt of her fully fleshed out adult status. I love her more than the vast majority of humans on this planet and I know she loves me just as much. So I think of myself as Mama, not Mom or Mommy. I don’t know why but that feels right for me. For someone else, that doesn’t feel right and that’s okay. Dog owner, dog parent, dog guardian, baby, furkid, Mom…they’re all just a way of describing your personal relationship. None are automatically wrong.
I’m far more upset by people who adopt dogs and then dump them at the shelter when they have a baby, or the dog pees on the bed, than I am by someone who calls their dog their fur baby.
Jo Thompson says
Excellent post. Totally captures what I thought about on Mothers Day and still feel. Thank you.
Deb Mickey says
While “owner” legally binds us to our dogs, it doesn’t cover all that we are. I guess I think of my relationship with my dogs as “companion” with dictatorial power (just kidding here – maybe “guardian power” is a better term – our dogs depend on us for so much).
When my dog and I are tending our sheep the term could be “partners”, each of us having our talents and responsibility toward the sheep.
When my dog and I are dancing in freestyle, we’re also “partners”, each bringing enjoyment to the other and, hopefully, to others who are watching.
I, too, cringe at “furbaby” and feel those who dress their dogs with bows and frilly clothes are not respecting their dog for who it is – a dog. But, I also try to keep in mind that throughout time dogs have filled whatever niche their person needed whether on the farm, hunting the next meal, warming a lap, being a companion.
A great conversation and I love the sheep peep window.
Margo Harris says
I think of myself and my dogs as owning each other. It is certainly very clear that they own me!
I do want people to know I own my dogs, for the reasons you mention. I also think of my dogs as my friends and me as their friend. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I don’t think of myself as my dog’s parent, but I kind of like that some people do. It just seems like a nice way to see things.
That photo of you with your dog….oh my, it NEEDS to be painted!!! Also, it would make such a fantastic book cover…
Mary Beth Stevens says
I’m another “childless by choice,” so Mother’s Day is really just another day for me – although it does make me miss my own mother. As for our doggers, well, yes, around here my husband and I refer to each other as “mom and dad,” and our little pack of two dogs and one cat as our family. That said, while I know that giving birth to and raising one’s own children is NOT the same as having animals in one’s life, I will say that having animals has given me an insight to what it must be like to have children. ie., “If I feel this bad when my dog is sick, just imagine how I’d feel with a sick child.” Or “oh no! The cat got out and it’s been three hours and now it’s dark! – How much worse must it be to not know where your child is?!” I believe that those sorts of realizations have made me more sensitive to the feelings and realities of parenthood, and thus (hopefully!) a better and more empathetic person. Just another example of how my animals have made my life better🥰
LisaW says
Yes, there are many other things to think or argue about, and one of the reasons we can’t seem to get out of our own way on many matters much bigger than this is illustrated so well in some comments here. This is a blog, a virtual, voluntary discussion group. A series of thoughts or questions are put out for us to consider (or not as the case may be). If you think the discussion is stupid, pointless, rude *insert adjective here*, then don’t engage. Taking offense at comments on a purely voluntary on-line blog where people are simply ruminating on the topic at hand is curious to put it mildly. These are comments not commands.
Phoebe Hollick says
What a fascinating thread. We need to bring about a sea change in people’s attitudes to dogs and their responsibilities towards them, and for the reasons people have given already, none of the terms we currently use seems to me fit for purpose. My own experience is of rescue dogs and I regard the day I adopt them as my Vow Day: I privately promise them that I will do everything in my power to heal any physical and mental wounds and protect them for the rest of their lives. As this entails setting some boundaries and taking legal responsibility for them as well as enhancing every aspect of their lives to the best of my abilities (and pocket!) and acknowledging the unique bond we have, the best word I can come up with is ‘Protector’.
Ellen Frigo says
I love reading the many different perspectives on what it means to have dogs in our lives- as varied as the people and dogs being discussed. And my own perspective is varied as well, as I have different roles in different parts of my life.
I am a mother, and have been for just over 23 years. I have 2 kids, and even those relationships are different because the kids are different. ( you recently met kid#1 on a zoom call). But the common thread is no matter how long it takes, the plan is for our kids to go forth and be independent of us. The relationships evolve as each kid grows and learns how to live life for themselves. I never have that expectation for my dogs, in fact the bond between me and the dog seems to evolve to one that is closer and more interdependent as time goes on.
In my work life, I am a veterinarian. My medical records always refer to the human attached to the pet as “owner” or “client.” From a legal perspective, that makes the most sense. Owners make decisions for their pets everyday that would be unusual to make for a child. ( I say unusual because I can imagine cases of some children being dependent on their parents for their whole lives, and that probably changes things). Even to the point of choosing to humanely end their earthly lives. We have almost absolute control over their lives, and they live within that framework.
As a dog owner ( I guess I’m calling it that), I interact with my dog in ways that I would never act with another person, even one highly dependent on me. My dog hops into bed and licks my face. I tell her to sit, and she sits, usually. I dole out food at regularly scheduled intervals, and she has no choice in the matter. But we both love the way this relationship works.
So I don’t think there is a universally applicable word to describe the relationship. She’s “my/our” dog, and we are “her” people. How that works for others is just as variable as the types of dogs and people that there are, and I don’t get too caught up in how other define it, short of some sort of pathology becoming involved.
Thank you for a thoughtful post; one that really made me think.
Em says
I loved LisaWs comment – “ I don’t consider myself my dogs’ mother or owner. I’m their person and they are my dogs. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship for the most part… I’ve lived with the same person for the past 40+ years, and he is my person, and I am his person. I think the same way about the man and the dogs (relative to this conversation) – I love them, I live with them, I take care of them, I learn from them, we play, we grump, we grow old – we are family. I could not imagine life without any of them.” So well said.
I fit into the category of not having a strong desire for children, and yet I have a three year old son who I love dearly. He will likely be my only child, in part because I choose to not add further to the human population, and in part because I don’t think I could balance the needs of another child and the beloved canines in our life.
I often find having a toddler and dogs remarkably similar. Neither can open door nor feed themselves, as Tricia said. They are at once intelligent, sentient beings who have their own needs separate from my own, but are also largely dependent on me for meeting those needs.
Frankly, I wish most humans saw dogs in such a way as to consider themselves their dog’s mother or father. So horray for anyone who considers themselves as such. Same goes for anyone who considers themselves a guardian, or owner, or whatever else, so long as they are providing their dog with love, gratitude, respect, and whatever else is required of any successful relationship.
liz says
Great post! I was thinking about this a lot on Mother’s Day, close to forty years old with a ten month old son. I’ve been surprised at the amount of overlap with dogs, and was compelled to wish a happy holiday to my “dog mom” friends and relatives. Really compelled to say, from this new vantage point, how much of emotion is the same: love, joy, wonder, pain, worry, sorrow. Not to mention an involvement with poop and mess and nursing care that goes beyond what I ever hope to endeavor with my spouse, god willing. Also with my partner, I remarked how different it is falling in love with a being whose personality and risk tolerance is known. Giving your whole heart to someone who you know won’t run out into traffic, versus one whose well being hangs proudly on my shoulders. Love these nuances!
Maureen C Finn says
Yes, yes, and yes. I agree with your points on all counts, so magnificently said.
I have lived alone with my dogs for almost 3 decades now, and in some ways I feel I am becoming part dog – I view the world from their eyes, I appreciate the things they appreciate–for some of the same reasons sometimes–and we are a unit. They are my companions, propping me up in this crazy human-centric world we live in, and I am grateful every day for them, for they keep me whole.
That said, I am their owner, which keeps them under my protection in the eyes of the law, however much that word “bumps” on many levels. The term furbaby makes me grimace (if only internally sometimes), although I sometimes call them my babies, used in a very broad sense, they are not my children – kids are great but not for me. I didn’t get the “reproduce” chip in my DNA, I guess. I am not my dogs’ parent and but I do occasionally call myself momdog. This stems from a running joke a friend and I had back in our 20s, and in love with our dogs. We were steeped in dogs, and also frequently called each other by our names + dog (I was Modog, she was Barbdog, and we sometimes called my then-partner Jackdog or daddog). Kind of cringy now, and the friendship faded when she moved away, but the momdog hung on.
Thanks for the Beston quote – always a favorite. I think the nurturing they bring out in their “helpless” needs (I’ve had more than one that could have survived in the wild), I also bow to their wisdom daily. The knowledge they hold is so superior to ours in many ways – I’m sure they wonder how we get by every day, as unaware and bumbling as we are.
Rebecca Owens says
I feel they are gifts and I’m their steward, albeit a very loving one.
Karen London says
I’m feeling the need to weigh in here as the author of the article that has given so many of us a chance to consider our own views on the subject and the views of others. I love that there are so many ways that we describe our relationships with dogs, but regret that they are still inadequate in many ways. I fully support each person’s right to describe their own relationships as they wish. For the record, I am personally most comfortable with the term “owner” for the person, and I consider the term “my dog” fully able to express the love we have for dogs. I don’t consider myself a mom to any of the dogs that have ever been in my life, but I certainly have no objection to others using that term. There is room for all the views and all the ways of loving. Thanks, Trisha, for prompting this discussion!
Cathie Clark says
I consider myself lucky to be a “pet parent” to my two senior dogs. I love them, care for them and marvel at their simple approach to life – eat, play, snuggle, sleep, sniff. Never having had children, I don’t know if I could love children more than all the dogs who have been my family over the years. I do know that I love my dogs with all my heart and do my best to give them a happy life. And isn’t that what a parent is?
Nannette Morgan says
I vacillate between “owner” when talking to some other people and “mom, person, companion” to others or friends. Dr. Kathryn Lord had an excellent term in her presentation this weekend at The Lemonade Conference. It was on the evolution of wolves and dogs. She thinks we should be called their “Creator of Food.” 😉 Something to think about!
Trisha says
Thanks so much for checking in Karen, and for getting the discussion started!
Kristin O. says
I just started reading Unleashing Your Dog: A Field Guide to Giving Your Canine Companion the Best Life Possible by Marc Bekoff and Jessica Pierce, so at the moment I affectionately refer to Aki as “my little captive.” 🙂
I have given this topic a lot of thought, as my husband and I – childless by choice in my 40s -have our first dog as adults. A lot has changed (for the better, from what I can tell) since I was a kid able to leave training responsibilities to my parents, so I’ve been reading a lot about dog behavior, cognition, training, enrichment…I’ve really taken to heart the notion of agency and of respecting Aki as a sentient being with his own thoughts, emotions, perceptions, and preferences, which has prompted me to spend a lot of time researching and thinking about how to work in concert with those and give him opportunities be his best dog self. It’s why I feel uncomfortable thinking of myself as his owner, from an emotional standpoint, though I AM his owner and I have no problem accepting that as a legal definition along with all of the responsibilities and privileges it implies.
I tried “guardian” on for size for a while, thinking of it in a Marvel Universe “Guardians of the Galaxy” kind of way – I am pretty sure Aki sees me as a superhero when I break out the string cheese for training! – but that doesn’t really fit, either.
While Aki does know me as “Mommy” at home (I swore I wouldn’t do that and then went ahead and did it anyway), I don’t really regard myself as his parent, and he is definitely not my baby. His teeth are too big, for one thing. 🙂 But I will admit that when he was attacked by an off-leash dog while my husband was out walking him, my nurturing instincts kicked into overdrive – as did some fierce mama bear (dog?) vibes that surprised even me. I mean, hell hath no fury…I still won’t talk to that neighbor nearly a year later. Aki seemed so confused and distressed after we got home from the emergency vet, and he sought a lot of reassurance and cuddling during his (thankfully brief) recovery. So maybe there is something to the notion that we experience a feeling akin to maternal instincts towards our dogs in some circumstances. I’m not ashamed to admit it, and I don’t think it’s incompatible with respecting him as a dog. It definitely does not adequately cover the complexity of our relationship, though.
My sister (mother of two young kids) texted me a paws and hearts “Dog Mom” graphic with a Happy Mother’s Day message on Sunday. Although it caught me off guard, since I don’t connect that holiday with my dog, I didn’t have a negative reaction. I gleefully sent back a photo of Aki in his new tent and wished her the same. I would love a word that could capture the unique nature and intricacies of our bond, but barring that, I think I’ll adopt some other commenters’ suggestion and simply think of myself as Aki’s person. He’s my dog; I’m his person. We belong to one another.
Alice Walter says
Dog/Person. Never furbaby, furchild, furperson etc. More like the special need little brother or sister that mom said needed to be cared for and watched out for for life. To be loved, considered special and has lots to teach.
Melissa Starling says
I’m LIKE a parent. I am an owner in the legal sense. I’m definitely a friend. But maybe there isn’t a word exactly to describe our relationship with animals, because they are not relationships that are so similar to the relationships we have with other humans that the same words exactly fit. I say I have my dog mum moments when the likeness between a mother of children and my role with my dogs is suddenly more similar than usual. I suppose I use the word “carer” most, but it doesn’t really quite capture it, either. In my mind, we are a unit and I’m the leader. Leader is a word that has been poisoned in the dog world thanks to our tendency to read too much into our own hierarchical natures and misunderstand what leadership is. But, the role of a leader is to guide the group’s activities, keep everyone safe and supported, make sure everyone has what they need when they need it, break new ground and bring everyone along behind you, lift everyone in the group up to the highest they can be. It is a nurturing role, but it’s also a role that goes beyond that, because my greatest desire when in a leadership role is to see myself needed less and less.
NS says
In the very earliest time,
when both people and animals lived on earth,
a person could become an animal if he wanted to
and an animal could become a human being.
Sometimes they were people
and sometimes animals
and there was no difference.
All spoke the same language.
That was the time when words were like magic.
from Magic Words, an Inuit poem
soyoung says
i think of my dog paco as my partner in life. i never wanted children of my own, but had always dreamed of having a dog since i was 5 years old. i have had so many people tell me how “human” paco is -he is a very smart cookie- a lab/border collie/bassett hound mix among a few other breeds-so much so, that his vet in nyc would warn vet techs outside the exam room not to get nervous because paco makes “very intense eye contact but is not aggressive.”
i love what you wrote about adult dogs being “sentient, intelligent individuals,” and i do my utmost to make sure i give him the very best life i can…for us, that means a lot of mental stimulation; tons of camping and hiking and exploring-at his pace; a very healthy diet, exercise, lots of affection, but also a lot of simple “together time,” whether that means sitting by a lakeside together taking in the sights and smells (with no attention or interaction needed) or allowing him space at home to decompress/really rest, while i work, now that he is an “elder statesman.” i would afford these same things to any family member or close friend that was in my care.
soyoung says
@rebecca owens
i love this!
Cathy says
Your observations reflect my feelings to a T. No “furbaby”, no “dog parent”. “Guardian” is a little affected but “owner” is perfectly ok. Maybe it reflects my generation (Boomer).And having no children and a deceased mother, I have snapped at people who wish me a Happy Mothers Day. I was wondering just this Sunday if people who, for example, do not celebrate a common holiday such as Christmas, feel this way. I’ve always thought they should be grateful people are wishing them happiness, but maybe not!
Julie L says
I find guardians upsetting for the very reason you state – to me it infers less than.
For years I have said companion and partner, because, indeed my dog’s have been that and so much more.
Nova says
I’m totally on board with being a dog mom. I don’t refer to her as my baby, and she is not a substitute for a human child, but she is my outlet for much of the love I would have showered on a human child had I been able to have one. I’m quite certain she doesn’t think of me as her mom. I’m somewhere between her servant and her god. I control every aspect of her life. When she eats, what she eats, when she can go to the restroom, when she can go for a walk. However, she communicates her wants and needs in pretty emphatic ways. And subserviently, I obey.
HFR says
I always feel slightly insulted when someone calls me the mom of my dogs. I don’t have children and it always struck me as patronizing, especially when it comes from people with kids and no dogs. I don’t need to be a mom to be content with my life so I don’t need you to try and make me feel better about it. My dogs are my dogs, not my children and that’s fine with me.
I’ve always thought of my dogs as my best friends. The kind of best friend you’ve had since grade school or college and can’t imagine not having them in your life. I call myself their owner because it is a very efficient word to use for most circumstances. Yes, I am responsible for them.
Of course, obviously people can use whatever term they want, but somehow when the term “mom” is used by a childless person, it just makes me see them as slightly sad. Probably not fair of me to feel that way, but there you go.
I always play this scenario in my head: If the house was on fire and your dog and a stranger’s child were trapped and you could only save one, what would you do? I’d die for my dogs, but I have to say I’d save the child. That kind of answers the question for me of whether I feel like their mom or not.
Lindsey W. says
My Mom died on December 2 and my dog has had to grieve right something BG with me, which I’m sure y’all can imagine how psycho I’ve been.
But, I work with the dog friendly hotels in downtown Charleston and there are still many AirBnbs, VRBOs and rentals will not allowed dogs as if the property are adorned with Tiffany Lamps, Oriental rugs weaved before the 1700s, or silk wallpaper?
This is where the title of Dogs for me as a dog Walker/Pet Sitter comes into play. No Dogs allowed is understandable at restaurants but houses on the beach where the sand makes more of a mess then what a little Natures Miracle can’t fix!
I’m sick of Pet Sitting for our HC/guardian dogs at places that they find out aren’t dog friendly. I’d like to speak with this property management company as these animals are being treated like second class citizens. Why should in 2021 dogs not be allowed somewhere. I get restaurants (inside no dogs) but rental properties??? One of the best , nicest hotels in town has been dog friendly since in opened The Omni now Belmond (a subdivision of Orient Express.). If they can do it, certainly the properties can, RIGHT?!
Stephanie Calmenson says
Thank you for writing about this…and so well. When I was writing my book “May I Pet Your Dog?” I suffered over using “owner” or “person” and ended up going with “owner.” One magazine wouldn’t review the book because of my choice. I’m still conflicted about it, but the book’s been in print for 14 years as is and so it will stay. It definitely helped me to read that you call yourself your dog’s owner, a choice made with the greatest love, care, and respect.
Dede says
I’m not very eloquent so hope this conveys my feelings about my dogs. Sadie was my world. She was my companion, my best friend, my child, my guide and my spiritual being. Losing her was world altering for me. I haven’t been the same since she died in a house fire. Splash was my warmth, my comfort and brought out my nurturing aspect. She had so many health concerns I would do anything and spend anything to make her life easier. I lost her before she turned 7. It was gut wrenching. She was more than just a dog, she was a helpless creature who healed many hearts before she took pieces of so many hearts with her. She was my time keeper and my happiness. Smiley is my crazy girl, she keeps me on my toes (quite literally!!). She is my wild girl that leads me places I’m definitely not ready to go to. She is my cuddle and trouble maker. And she makes me crazy!!
Each of my girls have brought different aspects of my personality out and each has brought me joy and love. Yes, I call them my children I’m in my late fifties and they are the only children I will ever have. They were all rescues and they all rescued me, so I also think of them as my best friends. Only wish they lived longer.
Ana M Schnellmann says
What a wonderful and thought-provoking discussion! I don’t like “furbaby.” My dog is not a baby, and she is not my baby. What is she? A friend. A companion. but she relies on me for protection, stewardship, guardianship. I rely on her to keep me grounded and in the now. I think the word that best describes our relationship is partnership. While I’m not her “partner” in the sense usually used, she is mine. We’re friends. Companions. Not equals, though. It’s an awesome responsibility, in both senses of “awesome,” to be a dog’s steward, life-giver, caretaker, guardian, and friend. In the end, I just don’t know. She’s my dog. I’m her human. All the other terms of friend, partner, companion just complement that interpersonal pack relationship.
Jenny Haskins says
My dogs are MY guardians 🙂
They protect me and I protect them.
They are also my companions, and my counsellors
I pay them with full board and lodging 🙂
And LOTS of Love 🙂
Barbara L Kissack says
First, thank you for including the quotation of Henry Beston. It is a favorite of mine and never ceases to move me. There is deep truth there. I just wrote the breeder of Prudie, my wonderful Golden, who turned 12 on Saturday to thank her for this beautiful girl. I told the breeder she was the perfect companion at this stage in my life. Companion comes closer than other choices. Here is definition that sums companion for me: Companionship is that state of being friends, but it goes a deeper than even a friendship. It is a closeness or familiarity, a true fellowship. True fellowship really is what I’ve had experienced in sharing my life with the wonderful dogs who have graced my life. Thanks for starting this rich conversation.
Pat says
What a truly interesting and complex topic. I will admit to not having given this much thought, until reading your words and those of the community here. By not thinking about the words to describe my relationship with Kona I may have intuitively fallen into language that I am comfortable with by default…..
I call Kona “my dog”, I refer to myself as “his person” (my mother, who we visit often, is called “food lady” because she cooks him bacon and steak – treats he does not get at home!). Those who call their dog their fur-baby or consider themselves their pet’s parent don’t offend me, but it’s not an accurate description of how I view my relationship. Nor do I see Kona as a possession, so using owner is not natural to me. My father sees dogs as having jobs (our background is rural) and that’s how he contextualises their relationship with us – in that sense Kona is my “companion” which I think conjures up images of Victorian ladies.
Ultimately, I suppose I am like others here in that no one word describes my relationship with/to Kona. Except to say…. he is a “mostly good boy”.
Elizabeth says
Late to the party…I do call myself their owner but I think of them as companions and certainly family members. I am devastated when they die but I can unfortunately tell you this – I lost my younger son in January and the loss of a dog (or a cat) does not even come close on the scale of grief we are going through. My husband was certainly very deeply impacted when we lost our Bullmastiff suddenly last June; he has still not recovered fully from it, but the loss of our son simply eclipses it.
Lavi says
We belong to each other, no names borrowed from human relationships needed or found appropriate.
Love between two species just is. My dog doesn’t need a name for it, so I don’t either: we are fully present to each other, and that is what love is.
Alexia C Cochrane says
I never had children, nor did my sister; growing up, our family life was way too dysfunctional and our parents much too miserable to even consider children of our own. Inexplicably, at nearly 69 now, I wish I had grandchildren to play with (and then send away). With no significant other not immediate family at all, except my sister, who’s 300 miles away, I feel very alone. Friends, sure. Close, intimate, depend-on-with-your-life friends, no. So there is my Lily instead, Border collie x Kelpie, 14 years old now, mostly deaf. We have a bond like no other. I’d almost call her my significant other, in fact, you could say life partner. We are in love, we are friends, we are bonded, we always watch out for each other. If I swear loudly, or cry, she comes to me. When the smoke alarm went off while I was drumming with headphones on for a Zoom class, she nuzzled me, clearly upset (she heard that all right!). We are inseparable. Yes, “significant other,” or maybe “life partner.”
Adrienne K. says
Wow, there is so much here and it is all so interesting. I loved reading each person’s view of themselves in relation to their dogs. I, also, have no children by choice. I know some people think that makes my husband and I a little strange. That does not bother me. I do not like when my friends try to curb their conversation about their children or grandchildren for fear it will upset me so I am very open in telling close friends we just did not want children. But that did not apply to us wanting dogs and cats. We have had many over our long, wonderful marriage. In no uncertain terms my dog, my sweet Zasu, encompasses so many treasured things in my life. Sometimes she is my child, my companion, my teacher, my protector. When I don’t call her by name a might call her “baby”, or “sweetheart” or just “big girl”. But what am I to her? I am her loving, benevolent God. I watch over her life and provide what she needs, both material and spiritual. I believe in a Higher Power for myself and I try to be that for my Zasu.
Anne says
I don’t think of myself as a dog mom or them as furbabies. I find that a bit sickly sweet? I think of them as my working partners, buddies, dog friends, helpers. I also feel like their owner, which puts me in a position of 100% responsibility for their well being, unlike a human friend who I would not be responsible for.
Alice R. says
I love this as a topic! I hate furbaby because it’s too cute (I hate cute!), and they’re certainly not babies anymore even if they once were. That being said if that’s what someone uses, they would never know I felt that way. Their dog, their call, right? I’m very comfortable with the my dog and his person answer, but I really think of the relationship in different ways with different dogs. My last dog, and I, a calm yellow lab, was my friend, and I hers. Every day, every minute, that was us. With my current dog, I definitely think of myself as his mom (although I really don’t want to be called that), and him as my kid because he acts just like my kids did when young. He’s very good at the mom, Mom, MOM! when he needs or wants my attention. He comes to me in a flash when frightened, and he’s very happy to make all the choices I offer him, but is checking to make sure I approve; he’s generally under foot. Dad is very special, but if something goes wrong, it’s me he wants. He accepts that we’re not always going to do what he wants without complaint, and he makes me laugh every day. In the end, it’s “what’s in a name?” for me. I call him monkey, but I don’t think he is one. We just are what we are, and I’m content.
Kat says
Belonging. I’ve been reading this discussion with great interest. In the circles I hang out in there is a lot of discussion about how we relate to our dogs both, as many have pointed out, because there are legal ramifications to certain labels and because understanding how we’re labeling our relationship with our dogs informs how we treat them. Last night I was thinking about how often the word belonging came up in the comments. And I started thinking about the meanings of the word. I have possessive responsibility for my belongings and my life is enriched by belonging to various groupings. My dog is my belonging in all meanings of the word. I think that comes closest to capturing it. Thank you for this discussion and for all the thoughtful comments.
Luca says
I loved your article and I do understand and agree that there is not one way or one word that is universally appropriate to use when we refer to our dogs! Our relationship with them also varies with each human and dog combination! I call my dog my son for many reasons! He is not my baby because he is an adult! I don’t like the feeling of owning him but I do like that with that title, I get to protect him and have a say in the quality of life he has and no one can take him away from me! However, he is like a child in many ways, he looks up to me for guidance, reassurance, love and entertainment! He is sometimes obnoxious and sometimes delightful and his happiness and well-being are things I think and act upon everyday! He has some freedom of action and independence in choices since I don’t strive for 100% obedience! I do in terms of his and other’s safety! Sometimes he has a tantrum(doggie style) and I am ok with that! If I go to the beach and it’s windy and there is flying sand and he decides he doesn’t feel like running on the beach, it’s ok, we turn around and go walk somewhere else! If he doesn’t feel like saying hello to someone (dog or
Human) I respect that, as long as he expresses that wish politely! So in someways, my relationship with him is like he is my son! He is not less than me for sure and his life to me matters just as much as anyone else around me, including humans! When he become an old and wise dog, that relationship may change! But for now, he is my son!
Trisha says
Elizabeth, I’m so sorry about your son. I can’t even imagine, but my heart goes out to you.
margo says
I am an imperfect human.I am an owner because I pay the bills. I am the Mom because I care enough to nurture and protect and to feel the emotion I call love and put their food before my own, and set some rules(which we all break).
Carly is a perfect dog. All dogs are perfect dogs.
If you adopt a child who does not meet your fantasy, are they no less your child? I am sincerely sorry that some women are denied the opportunity to carry a child through a pregnancy. It is both the most incredible and the most uncomfortable experience. Many women do have the capacity to love another woman’s child as they would their own A dog in our home is a 3 year old who lives their entire life with us.
Our children have minds of their own and are infinitely less loyal than our dogs because we are not expecting to be (and at some point they don’t want us to, publicly) our children’s primary hunter and gatherer. That comes with a bonus, their 3 year olds go home. with them
At this time I live with my Bearded Collie and plan my days around her needs, As I would a child. My human children are grown .
Although I do believe 75% of dogs progress further than 3 year olds on some level, I don’t know that they have a better handle on their emotions than a 3 year old. To that point, I believe that the ones who are able to learn more specific skills in order to be able accompany their human on multiple complicated excursions have advanced problem solving skills of older children, yet they still need the safety and trust in their caregiver just as a child needs their parent to have their back.
Common experiences: lack of sleep through the night for months,
cleaning up stuff ( literally a golden shower etc from a son )gets progressively more distasteful ( think diarrhea in the rain, ).
I like the term guardian. We are each others ‘guardian
Carolyn Mueller says
Hmmm, lots of feelings and emotions tie me to my dogs as I pondered the posed question. Working with surrendered, or worse, disposable dogs, I’ve been often shocked at the lack of committment or even preparation in folks taking a dog or cat into thier home. So’to me maybe that’s the primary necessity of a human pet relationship, commitment to life-long provision, love and care. But somehow it’s not a job but a privilege. And yes, I love my dogs in the real sense of love. Love that causes responsibility, causes many things actually. Things like causing joy in learning about each individual, like wanting to communicate and to be able to understand, (read my dog) like having a desire to learn what they need in all areas such as provisions, developmental, health, training, socializing and on and on.
That sounds a bit like a mom. However personally I reject that. It’s seems a bit humanizing the dog and that’s not fair nor honest. A dog is not a child yet like children each is individual having unique values to recognize and appreciate. So in that, my dogs are part of my family, just as my children are,
having individual attributes and needs too numerous to mention here.? So I see my dogs as valuable family members. Yet above all of that, my relationship is much more profound. A family member, yes but in truth. not a human bond, but that of a dog. This is because I think they are creations of God and come to us with whatever He has made them to be, body, mind and spirit. That’s the key for me. I see them as a GIFT from God who entrusted me with thier care, as He helps me to provide. Because of this belief, stewardship of this wonderful gift must be taken seriously. So they are my treasure to appreciate and love in a dedicated committed way. Pretty simple, really., They are my gift from God. That’s the relationship.
j says
There isn’t a good word yet. He’s just mine, as I am his, by his choice that goes deeper than ownership. Margaret Renkl’s essays are wonderful, aren’t they? And I love that image of you and Tulip.
Molly Westmoreland says
I will be welcoming a new puppy into my home and I love reading these posts as I look forward to the day I pick her up. I will be her person, and she my dog. We will also be partners, as some wrote, because we will rely on each other. But I will be her owner when I speak of her to another human because the word coveys my right to protect her from unwanted and possibly dangerous attention. As her owner, I can say, “Don’t touch her, she’s feeling nervous right now,” and “Don’t feed her that.” “Don’t thump her on the head.” “Don’t pull her tail.” In other words, owning her will, in some situations, evoke similar (visceral?) feelings to those of a mother about her child. And when the two of us are alone, I might just call myself Mama around her, because that, too, is my right.
Linda Blauch says
Thanks for another great article. I don’t have children, but even if I did, I think I would still refer to myself as a dog mom, as I currently do. However, I do not expect others to think of me as the same. Although, every Mother’s Day I tell others, I am not a mom. Their reply is always that I am a mom, to my dogs.
Susanne VetteMoseley says
Thank you. From my perspective, you nailed it. I am a mother. I was a dog and cat owner first. I have always been cognizant that society requires us to be owners so that we can protect our animal companions and friends. This inter-species relationship is a cultural and language exchange that challenges and delights me everyday. I have also taught Spanish and now work in special education. I see comparisons, but not real similarities. It is just that an interconnectedness occurs when communication spans observation, body language and language. It is joyous and as deep as you want it to be. These relationships have huge value. It isn’t transactional which makes love even easier. My animals are family. My humans are family. They have my love, my loyalty, my devotion. In return I get whatever joy our connection brings on any given day.
Diane says
Fur babies grinds me…not a fan. Like all relationships, they are intricate and complicated. I can think of myself as a parent, guardian, friend…. and maybe even a jerk at times. Childless by choice, I never got too much into Mother’s Day (for myself that is), but I do get greetings from family and friends recognizing me for caring for my dog, which I admit is nice. Thanks for the Henry Beston quote. It is so stirring, I never tire of reading it.
Katherine says
When my (read: my) dog entered her senior years, I started calling her “my old lady”–with all the love, exhasperation, independence, interdependence, and devotion that implies. She was my companion and my charge. I’m not sure any one word in the english language would fit. “Owner” is a correct shorthand, but ultimately too simplistic for me.
Louise Wholey says
I am my dog’s Mom but not his mother.
Holly Finn says
I am the mum of a human, and have been lucky enough to also be the mum to many dogs, im also stand in mum for my daughters partner and friends when they have needed one either because theirs is opting out of the role at present, or are not around… and what does the title mum mean when I say this?
Its thinking about their needs, safety, happiness and doing what needs to be done, get home after a super long exhausting day, but look at my dog and drag myself back out again, because thats what he needs, and he can’t facilitate that for himself, just like I drop kids to where they need to go, because it just has to happen…. and of course , I feel constantly guilty that I am letting any of them down… which is classic Mum guilt.
What I don’t understand is why anyone needs to gatekeeper this kind of thing, if someone in the next street gets a lovely card and a hug for being a ‘mother’ to a porcelain doll, does it somehow take away something from any other mother being celebrated?
There are loads of childfree woman who treat others as carefully and lovingly as they’d treat child of their own, and there’s lots of woman who have given birth and treated there children appallingly.
Do we need to really need to decide for others if they are worthy of feeling as they do, shouldn’t we just let people decide what label they feels fits them, and just be glad that so many people have people or animals in their lives to connect with, and love.
If your offended that someone else uses the title mother because you don’t think they have done enough to earn it, just remember, there’s always someone else who’s earn’t it more than you, has more children, carried a few at a time, has struggled more, kids who have been sicker, even taken in others in need children, or what about mothers who have buried their children, are they still allowed to claim the title? if your so offended by a woman calling herself dog mum, are you prepared to have your mother title quantified?,
You think there’s not mothers of 4, 5 kids out their reading mothers day posts of mothers of one child who are saying how they being celebrated because of the exhausting role being mother is, chuckling to themselves thinking “1”? “just one, h that would feel like a holiday”