I recently came to the conclusion that most people who say they like dogs actually do not like them. It is the idea of a dog that is appealing to them, not the animal itself.
I am sure that it is the case with all pets. People fall for a pet because they saw it doing something cool on TV or in a YouTube short, and they decided that this one small, exaggerated quality overrides all possible negatives.
I get it, I was in these shoes once. When I was a kid, I had a friend who had a very cute hamster. It was soft and warm, and I completely fell in love with the idea of having a pet like that of my own.
I got a hamster for my birthday. My euphoria lasted for about three days — until my hamster's habitat started to smell. The smell was strong and, to me, absolutely nauseating. The hamster's cuteness and fluff did not seem that appealing any longer, and even though I took care of my pet until it died a couple of years later, I very clearly realized that the idea of having one felt much better than the experience.
It is very similar with dogs. At its core, dog training is about reshaping a dog's nature to fit a human lifestyle, and most people who come to me are dealing with one manifestation of that nature or another. Barking. Chasing. Marking. Resource guarding. These behaviours are engraved in a dog's brain because they serve a certain function, usually related to survival. For us, they represent inconvenience — and so we constantly find ourselves fighting against a dog's nature, trying to get them to tame their own instincts.
Understanding these instincts and working with them is not a bad thing. Everyone has to figure out how to co-exist with the other persons in their life, human or not.
However, many people do not just want to shape these instincts — they want to eliminate them entirely, complaining about how hard it is to deal with their dog's dogness as though it were a defect.
While I understand how some behaviours can be absolutely unacceptable (humping or resource guarding), others — barking, chasing, digging — are essential to a dog's emotional well-being. The trick is to figure out when and where a dog is allowed to practice these, and, ideally, to teach yourself to enjoy them too.
A real dog is not a decorative blob on the floor that cutely tilts its head when you talk to it. A real dog is messy, emotional, and needy. It can be bratty and pushy, or meek and gentle — depending on the breed and personality you ended up with. But all dogs bark. All dogs chew. All dogs chase. And all dogs smell.
Which means that, together with a dog, you are also getting a wet nose in your face in the morning. A paw poking you for attention. A dog smell that gets stronger when they are wet. A whole range of barking, growling, whining, and wailing. Occasional or frequent drool on your lap. Hair on your furniture. Footprints on your floors. Dirt on your walls.
If you understand and accept most of these things, great. But if you feel like you hate everything on this list except for the imagined relationship you think you will build — rethink the idea of getting a dog.