On Having a Dog

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My sweet, smiley little boy [Image Description: Jackie’s pug Rogy, is sitting on her pink couch. He’s marshmallow/blonde and is smiling and looking at the camera. He has a pink blanket draped over him.]

It’s been over a month now since we brought little Rogy home. I didn’t think I could love another living thing more than I do.

Not gonna lie though, in the beginning it was really hard. He liked my dad better no matter what I did, and I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to handle taking care of him and myself at the same time.

I’ve always been a big sleeper. I don’t go to bed super late anymore (I could still pull the occasional midnighter though), but I’ve always slept in. Not as late as I used to (we’re talking noon in my college days), but on weekends or holidays, I usually hovered around a 9-10am wake up time. When you get a dog, that promptly goes out the window. Everyone I’ve known with pugs say they sleep late. Even at his foster parents’ house, Rogy got up around 8-9. For some reason, we he got to our house, he started getting up at 5-5:30am. I thought I was doing something wrong until I realized we live in a two story house and my parents both get up early. Rogy’s foster parents didn’t. Though they don’t get up at 5-5:30am early, Rogy likes to run downstairs as soon as he gets up to see if anyone else is up. He’s always checking everywhere to make sure we’re all present and accounted for. It’s actually quite adorable.

He still gets up around 5:30am most days, but the good thing is he’s learning that no one else is up that early so he usually goes back to sleep. But even with that, I want to have his food ready when he’s back from his walk with dad so I get up earlier on workdays now and several hours earlier on the weekends now too. Dogs unfortunately do not know what holidays or weekends are 😂 A fact that hadn’t occurred to me until I became a dog mom. I gotta say though, especially in the summer, it’s really nice to be up in the mornings. I can get a lot done and go places when they aren’t crowded yet.

The other difficult part was the physicality owning a dog takes. My original plan was to have a lazier pug that wouldn’t need to be walked too much but Rogy is full of energy, so my dad takes him on walks twice a day. It works out great, but when my parents are gone, I have to figure out a plan B because there’s no way I can walk him that much.

I’m also just on my feet a lot more. Feeding him, brushing him, vacuuming (which I do every day), lint rolling everything, taking him outside when it’s not too hot. giving him treats and his daily dental chew. I have to do a lot more laundry because I need to wash his beds and his blankets. I wipe him after every walk and try to put paw balm on him as often as I can so his little feet don’t get dry or cracked. I have to wipe his eyes everyday. I love him and I’m beyond happy to do all this to take care of him, but it’s definitely harder on my body. I feel like I spent the day at Disneyland after most days. Needless to say, my bedtime has gotten much earlier too.

Even though Rogy is small, I can’t really lift him either so I need my dad’s help doing some of the above and definitely with giving him a bath. Thankfully he can jump up on just about anything and get into my car easily so there’s not much lifting needed. I definitely had some guilt in the beginning about the things I couldn’t do for him, but I know now that even if I lived on my own, I would be ok because there are things like dog walkers and groomers.

In the end, I actually feel physically stronger than I have in a long time. I don’t notice my pain most of the time, and my mental health is astronomically better. Having to take care of the little dude gives me purpose and has helped me shift my perspective…something I needed so badly. Other bad sh*t going on in my life (of which there’s plenty), just doesn’t seem so bad anymore, and I don’t dwell on it like I would have pre-Rogy.

I also started him his own Instagram page. He’s so darn cute and I loved how his name fit with one of my favorite Star Wars movies (Rogue One), so keeping up with that and meeting other pug owners has been such a great source of energy for me.

I’ve been thinking back on the service dog thing a lot, and I think that worked out exactly how it was supposed to. Yes, they might have been a little more well-behaved than Rogy, and I could have taken them everywhere, but they would have been way bigger which would equal more hair and even stinkier. I also would have had to do way more work with them training-wise. It’s taken some time getting Rogy to go potty outside and not just on his walks, but we’re making really good progress. I may be overly optimistic, but I think he hates being in the car less too. Other than that, we’ve had to do very little training with him. With a service dog, I would have to be constantly reinforcing things with them, especially when it came to the things I needed them to help me with. I’m honestly not even sure where a service dog would have fit in our house or my bedroom. Little 15 lb. Rogy barely fits, but thankfully sleeps with me. He gets overly excited sometimes, but otherwise he’s very good about being cognizant of me and if I stop when he gets too excited and I worry he’s going to get underfoot, he stops too. He waits for me on the stairs too to make sure I get up them ok. It’s really sweet.

Definitely one of the most challenging months, but I’m so glad I didn’t follow my default pattern and give up. I had some days where I had to cry, I got frustrated, and wanted to give up, but I never did. I kept going and next thing I knew, Rogy and I loved each other.

I went away overnight last week for the first time since I got him too, and though I enjoyed the uninterrupted sleep, I missed him something fierce. I can’t imagine my life without him. My dad said he did really well too, even at night without me being there. With Rogy’s separation anxiety, that’s a huge deal.

I’ve avoided doing so many things in my life because they’re harder because of lack of accessibility, etc. I always blamed it on my disability, but in most cases, it was just because things weren’t set up for me which depletes your already low energy. You deal with enough of that, and it makes you want to stop trying. So as a result, I’ve quit a lot of things, or I haven’t even tried at all. Having a dog almost became one of those things, but I’m glad I didn’t let my fear of what I might not be able to do with or for Rogy affect my decision. Disabled people deserve to have dogs too, dammit.

I was worried I wasn’t meant to be a dog mom the first couple of weeks, but now I know that’s exactly what I was meant for. And I get a little teary eyed when I think about how long I wanted a dog and how much I’ve loved pugs and wanted one…knowing I achieved that goal/dream and looking at him sitting right next to me.