The Unspoken Rules of Being a Dog Dad

There’s no manual for being a dog dad. No classes. No certifications.
Just vibes, lint rollers, and a quiet understanding between man and dog.

Still, there are unspoken rules every real dog dad follows. If you know, you know. If not… it’s time to learn.

1. Always say goodbye. Even if you’re just getting the post.

Leaving without acknowledging your dog is emotional betrayal.
Even if you’re gone for 12 seconds, you say:

“I’ll be right back, okay? You’re in charge.”

It’s not optional. It’s law.

2. Wipe the paws. Even if it didn’t rain.

Clean paws = peace of mind.
Are you wiping them for the dog? No.
You’re doing it for your own emotional stability. And the sofa.

3. Always give a fake treat after the real one.

You know the one. The ghost treat. The empty hand that still gets a tail wag.
It’s not deception. It’s performance art.

4. You must respond when your dog sneezes.

No one wants to be the guy who ignores a tiny sneeze from a tiny nose.
The correct response is:

“Bless you, angel baby.”
Minimum.

5. Talking in a baby voice is not only allowed—it’s encouraged.

You said you’d never do it.
Now you’re 3 years deep into high-pitched gibberish like:

“Whooo’s my squishy little bear?”
We’ve all been there. It’s fine.

6. Your dog has to know at least 5 nicknames.

Their real name? Boring.
They also go by: Wiggle Nugget, Sir Bark-a-Lot, Bean, Danger Noodle, and Lil Guy.

Rotated daily. Said with love.

7. If they yawn, you yawn. That’s empathy.

That’s your kid. You share everything now.
Yawns. Blankets. Existential dread. Walks at inconvenient times.

8. No walk goes un-narrated.

Every poop gets commentary.
Every squirrel gets a full backstory.
Every head tilt gets turned into a 3-act play.

That’s just good communication.

So… How to Be a Dog Dad?

You don’t need a book. Just follow the vibes, learn the rules, and love your dog like they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to you.
(Because they are.)

Welcome to the brotherhood of bedtime snacks, paw wipes, and chaotic love.
You’re doing great, Dad.