The Weirdest Things My Parents Do With Their Dogs (And Why It Kinda Works?)97

My parents, bless their cotton socks, are not your average dog owners. They're deeply, madly, passionately in love with their three dogs – a fluffy Samoyed named Cloud, a mischievous Beagle called Bandit, and a surprisingly zen-like Great Dane named Everest. While their devotion is admirable, their methods... well, let's just say they're unconventional. To put it mildly, they’ve developed a unique, and often hilarious, approach to canine companionship that defies all logic (and sometimes basic hygiene).

First, there's the "doggy spa day" routine. This isn't your typical grooming appointment. Oh no, this is an elaborate, multi-hour affair involving mud baths (yes, actual mud from the backyard), followed by a meticulous drying process using towels, hair dryers, and even – I kid you not – a leaf blower. The rationale? Apparently, the mud is "naturally cleansing" and the leaf blower is "the most efficient drying method." The dogs, surprisingly, seem to enjoy the mud bath part, although Bandit always looks slightly traumatized by the leaf blower, resulting in hilarious, windswept chaos. The end result? Three dogs smelling faintly of earth and slightly singed fur. While I wouldn’t recommend this for your average poodle, it works for them. Somehow.

Then there's the issue of their dietary habits. Forget premium kibble and carefully portioned meals. My parents believe in a holistic, "free-range" approach to canine nutrition. This translates to sharing their meals, often resulting in Cloud getting half a grilled chicken breast, Bandit sneaking bites of pizza crust, and Everest, being the Great Dane he is, receiving an entire side of roasted vegetables. The vet is always slightly concerned, but the dogs are thriving (maybe a little too thriving – Everest needs new harnesses every few months). This might seem irresponsible, and perhaps it is, yet, these dogs are healthy, happy, and exceptionally well-fed. It's baffling, I admit.

Their sleeping arrangements are equally unconventional. While many dog owners confine their furry friends to dog beds, my parents have decided that the family bed is simply too small without the addition of three sizable dogs. The result? A chaotic, furry pile of limbs and snores, with Cloud often nestled on my mother's pillow, Bandit wedged between my father's legs, and Everest sprawled across the foot of the bed. Morning cuddles are adorable, but attempting to get out of bed without disturbing the canine slumber party is a nightly obstacle course.

And let's not forget the "doggy karaoke" sessions. Every Sunday evening, after dinner, my parents break out the karaoke machine and belt out classic rock anthems while the dogs, seemingly entranced, sit around them, occasionally letting out a surprised yelp or two at a particularly high note. This usually culminates in a rather messy dog pile on the living room floor as my parents collapse from laughter and exhaustion. Is this the strangest thing I’ve seen? Absolutely. Is it also remarkably heartwarming? Unquestionably. The dogs appear thoroughly unfazed and even seem to anticipate their weekly performance.

Perhaps the most perplexing aspect of their dog ownership is their unwavering belief that the dogs understand everything they say. Conversations are routinely punctuated with pronouncements such as, “Cloud, darling, don’t you think it’s time for a mud bath?” or “Bandit, please refrain from stealing your sister's biscuits.” Of course, the dogs don't understand a word they're saying, but my parents maintain that they're having perfectly normal, meaningful conversations. I've secretly tried this method; it doesn't work. Yet, in their world, it's a completely accepted communication strategy.

Their commitment to canine couture is equally impressive. Cloud sports a different sweater for every day of the week, Bandit has a collection of bandanas surpassing my own wardrobe, and Everest proudly wears a custom-made dog tuxedo for special occasions. These aren't your standard pet store purchases, either. These are bespoke, handcrafted garments that cost more than some of my own clothes. The sheer extravagance is astonishing, bordering on comedic, yet these dogs exude a level of pampered confidence that's frankly quite enviable.

Despite all the eccentricities, the dogs are undeniably happy and well-cared for. They're healthy, well-adjusted, and clearly adored. They're part of the family, not just pets, and this unorthodox approach to dog ownership reflects that deep bond. While their methods might not be considered "conventional" or even necessarily "recommended," the results speak for themselves. My parents’ uniquely quirky approach to raising their dogs may seem strange to outsiders, but within their own little world, it’s a perfect harmony of chaos, love, and a whole lot of mud.

Ultimately, observing my parents' relationship with their dogs has taught me a valuable lesson: there’s no single “right” way to be a dog owner. As long as the dogs are loved, happy, and healthy, the methods – however unusual – are ultimately secondary. And, let's be honest, their unconventional approach provides endless entertainment for the rest of the family. While I might not personally adopt the leaf-blower drying technique, I have learned to appreciate the unique beauty of embracing a little chaos – and a whole lot of mud – when it comes to loving a dog.

2025-04-14

Previous：What‘s on the Menu? A Dog Owner‘s Guide to Healthy Homemade Dog Food

Next：Essential Guide: Dog Vaccination - What You Need to Know Before, During & After