Do Dogs Really Mirror Their Owners? (An Investigative Study of Sorts)
Is Berry like me? Am I like Berry? Let's find out.
Forcing Berry to take a picture with me, as per usual.
In a previous post, I have shared an introductory post of sorts about Berry, my pet Pomeranian. In his ten months of existence, he has become a great source of emotional and physical support for me (and the rest of my family). However, the more I’ve lived with him, I was able to observe parallels between us—which can sound weird, but actually logical and relatable. You’ve probably read this piece on how dogs develop a tendency to mirror their owner’s traits, stress levels, and quirks. In this case, let me share some observations that seem to point out if Berry mirrors me, or vice versa.
To start things off, Pomeranians are known to be playful, intelligent, sociable, loyal, friendly, protective, and perky. They also happen to be a bit clueless about their size. Or at least their size doesn’t deter them from showing their protective and courageous side. They are also great companions for conversations and socialization.
Berry has shown his overprotective, “guard dog” habits ever since he reached puberty. Yes, he weighs under seven pounds and can conveniently fit into a large tote bag or a backpack-type carrier, but he has a lot of bark and bite (literally). Whenever Kuya or Ate Shopee / Grab / Lazada or Kuya John (our go-to kuya for drinking water deliveries) would come by our house, Berry wouldn’t hesitate to alert us and bark. Or, if I go out to do my laundry or tend to our plants, he would do the same thing. It’s as if he’s alerting us that there’s something suspicious happening, even if it hasn’t actually happened yet. At home, he can be curious and full of energy, often checking out things that his Kuya Puppy (our pet cat) would play around with, or following me everywhere I go at home.
When I take him outside though, Berry is a little more cautious and behaved. He doesn’t bark, and he gets overwhelmed sometimes by our neighbors’ dogs. However, he doesn’t hesitate to show his affection to strangers, allowing them to pet him.
As for me, I tend to share a similar kind of alertness with him— especially when it comes to deliveries or dealing with stressful situations. However, that “alertness” for the latter in the long run is actually a manifestation for my fight-or-flight responses. One of the things that I’m constantly working on is developing a thicker skin towards criticism and rejection. Whenever I’m faced with criticism or rejection, no matter how valid or constructive the intention is, my knee-jerk responses go two ways: to question and deal with the messenger for delivering the piece of criticism (and fight the criticism itself), and if the criticism is discouraging, I just stop trying (No thanks to rejection sensitivity dysphoria!), or I don’t challenge myself to improve or try new things. To connect this to Berry, Berry’s constant barking can be compared to the noise that constantly fills my head, which can consist of negative thoughts and voices that I have internalized, as well as negative thoughts that come across a floating timeline.
Berry showing his love for food
Berry is still very much a puppy, which makes him prone to zoomies. Zoomies are described as a sudden burst of energy that happens in animals, particularly with cats and dogs. When they’re happy and jumpy, they release dopamine. If you see your pup running around very quickly from one place to another, and then gets tired very easily, it’s a sign that he or she may have it. Berry’s zoomies can be a source of amusement and curiosity for me.
As for me, I have my own kind of zoomies or energy bursts. It’s called dopamine, lol. But then again, when you have ADHD, your dopamine levels are usually very low. To help raise it, I take coffee, move around, or find something that’s low-stakes, yet highly enjoyable— such as changing the color of my lipstick, fighting with a troll online, or doing my makeup.
Post-zoomies though, Berry and I relish the power of naps and the cold.
Having Berry around has allowed me to develop his social media-slash-internet voice, in the same way that I’m constantly pushing for mine. Berry’s voice online is a mix of cute (replacing his ‘r’s with w’s), a little bit sumbungero and chismoso, and somewhat nonchalant. He also happens to be very close to my best friend Jow, whom I have appointed as his godmother. To be honest, if I’m sad, I let Berry talk to Jow and we sometimes joke around about K-pop. Honing Berry’s voice online is a way for me to get out of my own head, and allow myself to empathize and experience life from the perspective of my pet dog.
As for me though, my challenge as a writer and as a person is learning how to develop my voice, as well as learning how to adjust it. Yes, I am developing my voice, and I am constantly growing, but part of that growth is learning to grapple with the changes that come my way. Developing empathy is a lifelong process, as well as weathering the storms of change.
If there’s anything I picked up from this little investigation, I can say that there’s a lot of truth in that PetMD article discussing how dogs and their humans seem to influence each other. No wonder I feel like Berry’s traits and quirks mirror mine. However, beyond the mirroring, I feel like my relationship with my own pet is a work-in-progress that’s filled with love and safety.
Until the next brain dump,
Lea