Paws & Claws: Who’s Training Who?

By Pussy Galore

Hello, fellow servants of the four-legged (and occasionally finned)!

I'm your new companion in this space, where we'll explore the beautiful chaos of sharing our lives with companion animals. For years now, I've been owned by various dogs and cats who've each brought their own particular brand of mayhem and magic into my life. (I've also maintained a few goldfish, though they were less-interactive conversationalists than my furry roommates.)

While my personal menagerie has been limited to barks and meows (and the occasional bubble), this column won't be. The universal truths of pet ownership transcend species. The dog person who finds themselves unexpectedly adopting a cat understands something the reptile enthusiast knows too: These creatures have a way of reorganizing our priorities and teaching us things we didn't know we needed to learn.

Let me tell you about the time my dad learned this lesson.

He came home one afternoon rustling a small paper bag with the reverence usually reserved for religious artifacts. "Gourmet dog treats," he announced to my mother. "Organic. Made with real duck." He studied the ingredients through his reading glasses, each word a promise of canine delight. "Do you think Sadie will like them?"

Without missing a beat, my mom replied dryly, "Sadie's in the backyard right now eating poop. Why don't you go ask her?"

That moment captures something every pet owner knows: the exquisite absurdity of our devotion. We rush home with ridiculously priced toys only to watch our cats play with the box. We research the perfect orthopedic bed while our dogs choose the cold bathroom tiles. We buy interactive puzzle feeders for pets who are perfectly content licking an empty yogurt container for twenty minutes.

Sadie herself was a case study in lowered expectations meeting unlimited love. My father, an animal lover who spent time at our town's mounted police stables, had befriended officers who shared his soft spot for four-legged creatures. Through this network, we'd adopted several rescue dogs over the years. Sadie came to us with a particularly dramatic backstory—thrown from a moving car on I-95, rescued by one of these officers, and in desperate need of a home.

She spent the next thirteen years with us, transforming into a tail-wagging optimist who approached each day with enthusiasm. But she retained what we politely called her "quirks." The worst two? That unfortunate fondness for dining on the other dogs' leavings, and an equally passionate dedication to licking our faces. After months of patient training, we successfully broke her of one of these habits. Just not the one you'd hope.

Yet we loved that poop-eating, face-avoiding dog with our whole hearts. Because that's what we do. We share our homes with creatures who operate by their own mysterious logic, and somehow they teach us that love doesn't require perfection—or even basic hygiene standards.

That's what you'll find in this column: the truth about life with pets, served with affection but without the sugar coating. Sometimes I'll share practical wisdom, like how I taught my cat to walk on a harness (spoiler: the cat taught me patience). You might pick up tips about choosing vets, managing separation anxiety, or surviving the economics of loving animals who view money as simply another chew toy.

But mostly, you'll find stories. Stories that capture those moments when our carefully ordered human lives collide with animal logic. The midnight emergency vet runs, the peculiar grief of losing a pet you swore you weren't attached to, the way creatures with walnut-sized brains somehow restructure entire households around their whims.

In this space, we'll celebrate both the ridiculous and the sublime. We'll acknowledge universal truths: your cat is definitely plotting world domination, your dog really does need three full minutes to investigate that blade of grass, and yes, you've had more satisfying conversations with your gecko than most humans. We'll embrace that "pet hair is a condiment" isn't just a bumper sticker—it's a lifestyle.

Whether you're owned by a Great Dane who thinks he's a lapdog, a cat who runs your home like a small dictatorship, or a parrot with opinions about your decorating choices, this column is for you. Because pet people understand something fundamental: love means accepting that your dog will never appreciate the difference between dollar-store tennis balls and the additive-free, fair-trade, hand-woven version you bought in a moment of weakness.

So welcome! Pull up a chair (after checking for sleeping cats). And please, share your own story in the comments below or send a photo of your pet with his/her name for publication in The Insider at editor@theinsider1.com. Tell me about the expensive cat bed that became a very expensive cardboard box. The gourmet food your pet rejected in favor of something unspeakable. The time you realized you'd been completely trained by a creature who can't even open doors. Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that we all have a Sadie story—and I can't wait to hear yours.