What Does It Mean To Give a Dog a ‘Good Life’?

I’m a dog trainer and love the heck out of my dogs. These days I don’t feel like doing much beyond walks, cuddles, and very occasional training.

The other day I was scrolling on social media when a sense of uneasiness took hold in my chest. With each flick of my thumb, I watched as someone new took their dog to scent class or agility class, taught a new trick, or prepped some elaborate enrichment. Should I be doing more? There was a time in my life when I trained my dogs every day, but here’s the truth: I don’t want to do that anymore. It got me thinking: what does it mean to give a dog a “good life”? How much do you have to do in order to be a “good” dog guardian?

The Early Days: When I Did A LOT

When Otis was younger (and so was I), I couldn’t get enough of training with him. We practiced basics like attention, recall, leash walking, settling, etc. I trained to help him with his fears. I taught him new tricks. We went to classes and took him on adventures. We practiced cooperative care. I got in a rhythm of doing a little training almost every day. Otis lit up and came running with a full body wag anytime I asked him if he wanted to train. And in case daily walks and training were not enough, I also prepped Toppls and did nose work almost every week and made sure he got social interaction with the dogs and people he loved.

His life doesn’t look like that anymore, and I often feel guilty. Is that guilt a call to action – a sign that something is wrong? Or is it pointing towards expectations that may not actually be fair? How did the checklist of things to be a “good dog guardian” get so long? Who is the checklist serving?

When the Checklist Gets Too Long

When I think back to when I was doing so much with Otis, a lot of it was for me. I loved getting to interact with him. I loved learning with him. I loved the way the rest of the world slipped away when we trained, and it was just the two of us. And I don’t think that’s a problem. In fact, what a gift. But over time, I got it in my head that he needed all of that in order to thrive. And that checklist started to feel heavier as my life shifted.

No matter what sort of mental gymnastics I do, I won’t be able to change this simple fact: my dogs are captive animals. Even though I cannot imagine life without dogs, there is something about that that will always break my heart. Since we control so much of our dogs’ environments, we have a responsibility for their welfare. So we do have to do some things. But what? Do we need to get involved in sports, take them to classes, prep meal time enrichment, train every day, etc.? How do we know we are doing enough?

I’ll be honest, anytime I hear that “doing enough” language, I think about capitalism. How much of my learning about productivity is seeping into how I am thinking about my dogs’ needs and making me feel like shit? Is there a chance my dogs might actually be quite content to rest despite my own learning around it?

What Contentment Looks Like These Days

These days, I still sometimes feel the weight of that old checklist, but when I look at my dogs’ behavior and their lifestyle, I see a different story. I see dogs who get physical activity every day, access to lots of scents out in nature, time to rest under a shady tree or in a cozy bed. I see dogs who get to ask us for pets or to tug a toy. I see dogs who by and large seem content. And when they are not, their behavior tells me that. Rather than settling, they paw me or huff at me more. And then I can make a change. But I find that I just don’t feel like training and prepping enrichment as much anymore, and it doesn’t seem to be negatively impacting them. I think they are both (well, at least Otis lol) thrilled to train if I offer it, but their welfare doesn’t seem to drop without it (that being said, their big training history with me has been helpful over the years). These days, I mostly just want to enjoy them without a big to-do list. As I’ve released some of the expectations around achievement and productivity for myself, it seems I’ve slowly been able to do the same for my dogs. So I think the guilt I sometimes feel is telling me that it’s time I let go of an old checklist that doesn’t fit anymore and adjust my thinking about what my dogs need in order to live a good life. Maybe meeting their needs doesn’t have to look like what it once did.

I will always find joy learning new things with my dogs. In another stage of life, there’s a chance I’d be going to more classes (and if I was honest, a big part of it would be for my own enjoyment). But I don’t have the ability to do that right now, and that is okay (pep talk for myself).

A Working List for a “Good Life”

So how do we give our dogs a good life?

I polled a number of people who are all either dog trainers or what I consider to be incredibly thoughtful dog guardians, and here’s what I got (I’m taking the liberty to synthesize some of what they said in a few instances):