Things We Say to Our Dogs That Would Sound Unhinged Without Context

Yesterday, one of us said, completely seriously:

“You cannot bring that poo into the house.”

There was no laughter. No sense that anything unusual had just happened. It was simply a necessary instruction issued during the normal course of living with dogs.

And that’s when it occurred to us.

Dog owners say some deeply strange things.

Not deliberately. You just reach a point where shouting “STOP LICKING HIS EAR” across the kitchen at seven in the morning feels entirely reasonable.

Take these sentences out of context, though, and we probably all need checking on.

“WHAT HAVE YOU GOT?”

Nothing good.

Nobody has ever shouted “WHAT HAVE YOU GOT?” and discovered their dog has thoughtfully picked up a £20 note.

It’s something wet. Something dead. Something that was previously attached to something else. Or, perhaps most worryingly, something you cannot immediately identify.

There’s also a very specific reaction dogs have when you ask this question.

Chew faster.

They know.

You know.

And suddenly you’re involved in a hostage negotiation over half a kitchen sponge.

“Drop it.”

Chew.

“DROP IT.”

Faster chew.

“I’ve got cheese.”

And there it is. International diplomacy.

“YOU’VE JUST BEEN OUT.”

This one is particularly irritating because it is factually correct.

The dog has just been out.

You watched them go out.

You stood at the back door in your dressing gown while they spent nine minutes inspecting a bush, stared at a pigeon, walked in three circles and eventually came back inside.

Two minutes later, they’re standing at the door again.

“You’ve JUST been out.”

The look you receive suggests you fundamentally misunderstand the arrangement.

Apparently the previous outing was recreational.

This one is business.

“LEAVE HIS BUM ALONE.”

Imagine shouting that in any other social situation.

Yet in a house with more than one dog, nobody even looks up.

There are dozens of these.

“Stop licking him.”

“Get off your brother.”

“Why are you sitting on her?”

“Give him his leg back.”

“Can everybody PLEASE just calm down?”

That last one is particularly pointless.

No group of dogs has ever heard “can everybody calm down?” and thought, Fair point. We have rather lost the run of ourselves.

Usually somebody starts running.

“WHO DID THAT?”

We need to talk about the investigation.

Something has happened.

Perhaps the bin has been raided. Perhaps a cushion has mysteriously exploded. Maybe somebody has done something unspeakable near the back door despite having been offered ample opportunity to do it on the correct side of said door.

So you enter the room.

Everyone freezes.

“Who did that?”

Now, logically, you know they aren’t going to answer.

You know this.

Still, you continue.

“Was it you?”

Nothing.

“Was it YOU?”

If you have several dogs, this is where it gets interesting. Suddenly every dog in the room has the demeanour of someone attending a police interview with a very expensive solicitor.

Nobody saw anything.

Nobody knows anything.

One of them has stuffing attached to their face.

Circumstantial evidence.

“YOU’VE ALREADY HAD ONE.”

The treat cupboard.

Scene of some of the most audacious attempted fraud in the modern home.

You give the dog a treat.

Three minutes pass.

The dog returns and sits beside the cupboard.

You explain that they’ve already had one.

The dog looks genuinely shocked by this allegation.

No.

Surely not.

You must be confusing them with another dog.

If there are two humans in the house, things become more sophisticated.

“Has he had one?”

“No.”

“He has. I gave him one.”

And there sits the defendant, staring innocently ahead while his elaborate attempt to obtain a second payment collapses around him.

Dogs are remarkably good at this.

Particularly with the person in the house who can be relied upon to crack.

Every dog knows who that person is.

“IT’S THE SAME POSTMAN.”

Same postman.

Same van.

Same approximate time.

Every day.

And yet his arrival continues to be treated as an unprecedented threat to national security.

“IT’S FINE.”

Apparently it is not fine.

“He comes every day.”

Irrelevant.

“You saw him yesterday.”

Ancient history.

“He is literally walking away.”

VICTORY.

The dog returns from the window looking extremely pleased with themselves.

Another attempted invasion successfully repelled.

You’re welcome.

“I’M NOT THROWING IT AGAIN.”

Yes, you are.

This isn't even worth discussing.

“WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?”

Possibly the stupidest thing we say to dogs.

You stood up.

Obviously the dog stood up.

You went into the kitchen. They came too.

You went upstairs. Apparently they had business upstairs.

You went back downstairs. Their business upstairs was mysteriously concluded at precisely the same moment.

And then you go to the toilet.

Still they come.

There are boundaries in most relationships. Dogs simply haven't been informed about them.

Close the bathroom door and you'll see a nose appear underneath it.

Sometimes a paw.

Perhaps the occasional sigh from the other side, just so you understand how unreasonable you're being.

Privacy was lovely while it lasted.

“DON’T EAT THAT.”

Grass.

Mud.

Tissues.

Things found underneath hedges.

Things found in car parks.

Things so horrifying that you make the decision not to investigate further because knowing would somehow be worse.

Dogs approach the world with a simple question:

Can I eat it?

And if the answer is clearly no, the follow-up appears to be:

But can I eat it really quickly before you get here?

Nothing improves your sprint speed quite like seeing your dog pick something up on a walk and realising, from 20 feet away, that whatever it is has legs.

“SAY HELLO NICELY.”

As opposed to the traditional dog greeting of charging towards someone like you haven't seen another living creature since 1987.

We all know the voice, too.

“Nicely...”

Everything is going reasonably well.

“NICELY.”

A bit too much enthusiasm.

“Right. That's enough.”

And we're done.

Then there are the actual conversations

This might be the bit non-dog people find hardest to understand.

Because eventually, you stop merely giving your dog instructions.

You start consulting them.

“Do you think I should make a cup of tea?”

Dog looks at you.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

Or:

“Where have I put my keys?”

Dog says nothing.

“Absolutely useless.”

Five minutes later you're explaining what you're cooking, discussing the weather and telling them about something annoying that happened at work.

They are excellent listeners.

Admittedly, much of their interest appears to depend on whether you're holding cheese, but nobody's perfect.

And perhaps that's why all these ridiculous little conversations become so normal.

Dogs work their way into the boring bits of life.

The first cup of tea. The school run. Opening the shop. Making dinner. Putting the bins out. Sitting on the sofa at the end of a long day.

They're just... there.

Watching.

Following.

Occasionally stealing a sock.

So yes, taken out of context, some of the things we say to our dogs sound completely unhinged.

But if you've ever stood in your garden at 10pm whisper-shouting “JUST DO A WEE” while wearing slippers in the rain, you'll understand.

And if you haven't?

Give it time.

Now we want to hear yours.

What's the most ridiculous sentence you've said to your dog that would sound completely wrong without context? Comment below 👇

We have a feeling you can do better than us.

Betty & Butch
Independent natural dog store in Manchester, established 2010.

Chorlton | Handforth

Wellness Begins in the Bowl.