Your Dog has Opinions

Dogs are incredible family members. They give us loyalty, comedy, companionship, and that soft warm presence that somehow makes everything better. We give them walkies, adventures, enrichment toys, and the good treats hidden in the back of the cabinet.

But here’s a question.

Have you ever considered what your dog likes and doesn’t like?

Because your dog?
Has opinions.

Do they like being picked up?
Do they enjoy wearing that pumpkin sweater?
Do they want to give kisses… or are they tolerating you?

Even in the most loving homes, dogs don’t get a lot of choice. We decide the food, the timing, the walkie route, the bedtime, the visitors, the vet, the groomer. Most of their lives are scheduled by someone else.

So, what if we paused and asked:

What would they choose?

I love when my dogs give kisses. It melts me. But of my two current girls, one is a kisser and one… is selective. She will kiss other people. She will kiss me when I first wake up. She will kiss me when I come home after an absence.

Random Tuesday at 3:17 PM?
Absolutely not, no kisses for you mom.

And I respect that. I am not smearing peanut butter on my face to manufacture affection. If she wants to kiss me, she will. If she doesn’t, she won’t. That’s her choice.

My two littles in Spirit, Daisy and Peanut, could not have been more different.

Daisy adored clothing. Loved it. Thrived in it. Put her in a sweater and she stood taller. Bring out the camera and she was ready. Chin up. Eyes soft. She would have asked about lighting if she had the vocabulary. She was always ready for her close up.

Peanut believed clothing was nonsense and the camera was clearly attempting to steal her soul. She did not consent to fashion. She did not consent to photography. She tolerated neither with grace. Peanut also, I’m fairly certain, cursed fluently.

Yes, I have photos of both of them.

Daisy looks like she’s ready for her magazine cover.
Peanut looks like she is filing a formal complaint.

And that’s the point.

So many of us love our dogs deeply. We want them happy. We buy the best food, the best beds, the best gear. But sometimes we forget to ask what makes them comfortable.

Pay attention to their body language. Their energy. Their patterns.

Let them lead part of the walk sometimes.
If they walk away from cuddles, let them.
If something scares them, don’t force exposure in the name of “confidence.”

Choice builds trust.

Advocating for your dog builds safety.

Honey Bear is the sweetest creature on earth. She is also shy. Once, a friend came over, saw Honey, squealed her name, and rushed in for a hug.

Honey ran to the corner of the bedroom and did not reemerge until our guest left.

In Honey’s mind, that was rude. Space invaded. No consent requested.

I gently explained to my friend that Honey needs softness. A quiet hello. No looming. No sudden enthusiasm. Honey will come to you when she’s ready.

Dogs don’t hold grudges. But they remember how you made them feel.

After that first encounter, Honey chose to disappear anytime that guest visited again.

That’s information.

Advocating for your dog means you don’t override their comfort just to make someone else feel good. You protect their space.

Now, of course, some things are non-negotiable. The vet. The groomer. Nail trims. Safety. Care.

But even there, we can choose practitioners who understand our dog’s temperament. We can move slower. We can reward. We can support.

Why adjust your behavior for the family dog?

Because connection is built on respect.

Think about how you feel around someone who ignores your preferences. Who gets in your face. Who talks too loud. Who overrides your “no.” It creates tension.

Your dog feels that too.

When you honor their opinions — even the small ones — you’re telling them:

I see you.
I hear you.
You matter here.

And that changes everything.

I would love to hear about your dog’s opinions.
What do they absolutely refuse?
What do they insist upon?

Because trust me, they have thoughts.