When I first bought the infamous green striped couch, I did not have a dog. It was the first new piece of furniture I’d ever purchased. And at $700, it was a lot of money for a new college grad. Then, I rescued Merlin.
Merlin, my new dog, did not immediately destroy the couch. No, he led me to believe that a sweet, innocent thing like him would never do such a thing. In fact, we made it through his entire puppyhood without any major damage. A few shoes here and there, but no more than you'd expect to lose when raising a young dog.
Then, a few moves into our lives together and a few months into living in our first house, I came home to a destroyed couch. He had chewed up every visible corner of cushion.
Once my dog began to chew, this couch never stood a chance. (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
I bought embroidery needles and patched the gigantic tears. It wasn’t pretty, but my “Frankencouch” was secured from losing its stuffing. I protected the couch with an ugly slipcover and mourned the loss of the lima bean-colored stripes. But that was just the beginning. Over the next few months, Merlin punctured the slipcover and got right back to chewing. He perched on top of the cushions, and his weight ripped them open. Soon, my boyfriend moved in with his dog, Ruby, and all hope for the couch went to hell.
Who knows why Merlin started in on the couch after more than a year without any issues? Perhaps it was the same anxiety that has since caused him to chew the wooden sashes of my living room window. Whatever Merlin’s reason, the couch, and now the window, must be completely replaced.
The saboteurs and the window sashes they demolished (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
Unfortunately, one-size-fits-all tips for dog-friendly homes aren’t always realistic. A little trial and error is necessary to determine criteria for a home that makes sense for your particular four-legged fam.
But you have to start somewhere. Here’s what I’ve learned about making my home safe for — and from — Merlin (and Ruby, too). Hopefully the lessons I’ve learned painfully can save you some dog shaming.
Materials matter.
I had my dog in mind when I selected the material for my new kitchen floor. He’s white and a shedder, so I knew I couldn’t go too dark. I selected a cork-backed laminate. It’s waterproof, which seemed good for dog water bowls and slobber. And it could be installed over my existing flooring. I chose a light, bright color called "Glacier" that had some grey veining to mimic my countertops and hide Merlin’s dog hair.
When I chose light-colored flooring, I thought I was being dog-conscientious. Oops. (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
Big mistake. While white dog hair blends in well, dirt does not. And unlike smooth tile that might Swiffer clean with a quick wipe, the woodgrain texture of the laminate planks is a sanctuary for crumbs and mud. I’ve broken two Swiffer handles trying to scrub out dirt. I’ve finally conceded that cleaning the kitchen floor is now a hand-and-knees scrubbing chore. Moral of the story: Dogs bring in dirt, not just hair. Read reviews to check the clean-ability of materials that will come in contact with your pooches.
I had a similar experience with a rug. I thought I was considering Merlin when I bought a colorful living room rug with an imperfect, hand-woven texture. If a dog were to get any funny ideas and pull at the cotton pile a bit, it will just look like part of the character of the rug, I thought. Turns out, this rug is stretchy and lightweight, so when the dogs play it gets ruffled and pulled under the furniture and will never lie completely square, driving me crazy. Even worse, this rug is also very difficult to clean. The ridges render a quick vacuum impossible and require a pass through with the hose along every single ridge — approximately every inch on a 9-by-12-foot rug.
Open-concept, or open chaos?
One plus about my house that I’ve realized is ideal for the dog life is that it’s not open-concept. While anyone who’s turned on HGTV in the last decade may be inclined to rip down all the walls a la Joanna Gaines, having the ability to section off the house is super convenient. Want to slowly graduate Puppy from his crate to a bigger room before unleashing him on the whole house? Bathed your dogs and need them to dry off in one room before giving them free rein? Letting cookies cool on the kitchen counters (which are never completely out of your dog’s reach)? Doors come in handy. There has been many an occasion when I’m grateful for the pocket door that allows me to close off my kitchen from the rest of the house.
The double-edged doggy door
One of the first improvements I made to my house was installing a dog door. I bought a panel that inserts right into my sliding-glass doors, and Merlin quickly embraced the freedom it provided. The dog door is in my sunroom, so I can close the main back door to the house when I’m not home or when it’s raining to restrict our dogs’ outings. But when we’re home, the flap allows him to come and go as he pleases. Which is often. On one hand, it’s super convenient. But do you know why he’s tracking all that mud onto my painful-to-clean floors? Yeah … maybe not such a great idea.
Paw prints may be hard to clean off of this floor, but who couldn't love those faces? (Photo by Sarah Lockwood)
Things are replaceable.
In the end, a house is just a house until it’s filled with love. And Merlin and Ruby are family. They make our house a home. Our new couch, a hand-me-down from my parents, is woven and more difficult to destroy. A new window is next on my list. As I go, I’m learning lessons about materials for the next home or next renovation. And maybe, just maybe, when adopting our next generation of fur babies, I’ll find some non-shedders. But for as long as we can keep them on this earth, our dogs come first, and then the stuff. Their love cannot be replaced. Stuff can.
