Pardon my "dog person" speech

Chris and I were driving home from Target yesterday... we were comparing notes on how our Australian Shepherd Sherlock has intensely impacted our lives. This is a frequented, repeated conversation. We're slowly morphing into those dog people who can only talk about dog stuff: start with a conversation on food...turns into one on what we feed Sherlock; start with favorite TV shows...segue to Wilfred...and we're back to Sherlock. it's like that 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon game--give me any topic and I can (sadly) find something dog-related. I didn't ask for this, it just happened. 


So, our conversation. We have tricked everyone into thinking we have trained him, but in all truth we are just as affected by his presence as he is from ours. Here are some shared tendencies (eccentric tendencies) we both have inherited from our dog ownership responsibilities:

1. We tense up when the doorbell rings, ready for an assault on our ears and possibly our laps. Pavlov at his best. 
2. We have both faltered and/or felt a sense of guilt when saying the word "hungry," "ball," "walk," or "park." And we glare at each other when we make this mistake, knowing Sherlock will get his hopes up and be let down. 
3. We frequently howl in an attempt to get Sherlock to howl, because his howl is more of a yip which makes us laugh and because we like to speak to him on his own terms. This includes growling, barking, etc. (I guess I've already verified that we're verging on certifiably insane by admitting this one.)
4. We often speak to Sherlock in unintelligible, babyish nicknames. I won't go into those. 
5. We brag and share to each other about tricks and feats that others would surely see as insignificant (i.e. "Did you see Sherlock look at the TV? He's obviously smarter than any dog at the dog park!" or "Look at that face. I can see him thinking" or "Sherlock tattled on my mom's cat [Figaro].")  
6. We stick up for him, even when he's probably in the wrong. He nipped at Chris's dad the first week we had him, but we blamed Chris's dad because he was too aggressive and tried to take a bone from Sherlock. That incident was ultimately a parenting issue/preference, and both parties were passively angry about it for at least a few weeks. 

We project our emotions, we assign our inadequacies, and we make Sherlock into what we want or need that day. But he is supremely authentic--his integrity never falters--which is what I need most days. I don't know who doesn't need something to be genuine, constant, unaffected, and reliable. 


Our conversation spoke to our shared craziness and confirmed vocally what we both had been thinking. We are those people who post unnecessary pictures or pearls of animal wisdom like "Sherlock tried to put on my purse today..." Things that I'm sure annoy the general population when they see them blasted all over Facebook. But we do it because he is standing in for our first child. Also, I saw a documentary that likened the feeling (both scientifically and emotionally) when looking at a dog with that of a mother looking at a newborn baby. Apparently that same chemical is released in the brain for both parties: dog owners and baby owners. So as you read this, remember that it is in my genetic makeup to gush sentimentality about my dog. Or just look at that sweet face below.