Owning a dog wasn't like I'd imagined

perspective Steady is a joy, but raising a dog wasn't what I'd imagined Tue 2 Jun 2026 at 11:51am My dad was a loving but overbearing father. I recognised early on that there was a lot of him in me, which played a role in my decision against ever having children — or until a few years ago, ever having a pet. I knew I'd be a strict, over-anxious, quick-tempered carer and I didn't want that for myself or anyone else. Then I hit 40 and there were puppies that needed homes. Suddenly, I had Steady the kelpie-cross-cattle dog. What had I gotten myself into? By the second week, I was crying myself to sleep. I'd been right — this was a terrible mistake. Puppies, it turns out, should really just be for Christmas and are otherwise best enjoyed as guest stars belonging to somebody else. Puppy parenting is life-changing, and to say I didn't like all of the changes is an understatement. I was extremely distressed by the cognitive dissonance between my expectations of dog ownership and the reality. I had pictured relaxing walks, lots of playing, tired puppy snuggles. I neglected to give much thought to whether my personality would slot into a dog's lifestyle. Spoiler — it did not. The realities of dog ownership I was a helicopter dog dad. I was terrified of what he might consume that could hurt him. Tea-tree products disappeared from our home, chocolate had to be monitored, even avocado might make him seriously ill (imagine the added distress for a millennial whose entire house deposit has been spent on these). I fretted that I was doing things wrong — messing up his training, messing up our bonding by being too strict, by doing the doggy version of controlled crying. I resented how much of my time and attention he demanded, never being able to switch off the part of my brain monitoring his whereabouts, water or toileting. I knew I was messing up crate training, but it was bigger than that — I was messing up having a dog by setting expectations for the both of us that were not reasonable. And it hadn't occurred to me that this might happen: I wasn't feeling the love, not beyond the normal appeal of a very cute baby animal. I wanted heart explosions of literal puppy love, but my heart was busily carrying the load of my anxiety and instead I was devastated by my lack of ability to fall in love with this beautiful animal. I felt confirmed in my belief held since childhood that I would not make a suitable parent. I was completely trapped in the idea that both Steady and I needed to get things right all the time. A friend of mine went through a similar difficult patch when she got a puppy. A single mum, she's no stranger to the dark times of parenthood, but she was shocked by how she felt after first introducing a puppy into her life. She told me these were the "puppy blues". Letting go of perfection Fortunately for both Steady and I, my partner at the time was along for the ride. He's had many dogs and bonded effortlessly with Steady, who is ostensibly my dog, but loves Mark best. I am the bossy one, Mark the good-time dad. Steady himself did not bear out my fears. He's a delight — great with kids, respectful of wildlife, and mostly resigned to smelling like a pool or the ocean rather than cow manure. He has even won over my mum, who has never had much time for pets (nine children being a reasonable excuse), and is allowed inside her house. He does require three or four hours of stimulation a day — that comes with his breed and his temperament. It took longer than I expected for Steady and I to bond, something we have in common with my dad and I. It also took me a while to recognise my anxiety as an expression of care, and then to find better ways of experiencing that. Part of that was letting go of the idea that Steady had to be perfectly behaved. Since I don't demand it of myself, it's probably not reasonable to expect it of him. Bruce Cherry is a writer and bush regenerator living and working in far northern New South Wales on Bundjalung Country. Loading...