"Can I Pet Your Dog?"
Table of Contents
I get asked all the time by strangers, something to the effect of “Can I pet your dog?”. People see her, think she’s cute, and feel a sudden strong urge to touch her. Some people will just reach out without asking, but the majority of people ask first.

I don’t object, but I’m not sure my dog always enjoys it when people put their hands on her, or in her face.
Shiba Inus are notorious for being—among other things—quite aloof at times. Sometimes when people go to pet or greet her, they expect her to behave similar to other dogs and reciprocate their excitement. However, in most cases, she doesn’t care. Oftentimes she hardly acknowledges the person exists.
Some people have taken this as a personal slight against them. I try to warn people before petting her that there’s a possibility she won’t care.
Instant Gratification #
We live in an age of instant gratification. You can buy just about anything from Amazon and it will arrive in 1-2 days. You can order food from nearly any restaurant and it’ll show up at your door within an hour. You can get a chauffer to pick you up wherever you are whenever you want and drive you anywhere. Post a photo on Instagram and random strangers will give you praise without knowing who you are.
People seem to be conditioned now to expect that instant gratification everywhere, and when they don’t get it there’s a sort of cognitive dissonance between the expected gratification and what actually happens.
The Psychology Behind the Pet #
These dog-petting interactions remind me of all the other little hits people go looking for all day. When someone approaches my Shiba, they’re often seeking a quick dopamine hit—that moment of connection and joy that comes from petting a cute animal. It’s not unlike opening Instagram and checking whether anyone liked what you posted, or refreshing your inbox for no good reason.
What fascinates me is the reaction when that expected hit doesn’t come. My Shiba, in her aloof independence, inadvertently becomes a pattern-breaker. She doesn’t conform to the expected script, and that momentary disruption can be jarring for people accustomed to getting what they want when they want it.
Wanting to pet a cute dog is normal. But I do wonder if these small moments where that expectation falls flat are useful when so much else now shows up right when we ask for it.
Finding Balance in a Fast-Paced World #
My Shiba’s indifference changes the interaction. She doesn’t fake enthusiasm, and she doesn’t care if that throws someone off. If she wants to engage, she will. If not, she won’t.
A text message isn’t the same as a conversation. A like isn’t the same as appreciation. The convenience of modern life is wonderful in many ways, but it can also create a false sense that meaningful experiences should be as instantly available as everything else.
But What Does It Mean? #
I don’t know what it all means, I just find the phenomenon interesting. Life is easier now than it’s ever been for most people, and yet if you read the news you’d think the world is near collapse (by the way, I suggest not reading the news unless you want your brain to rot).
We’re not at war, there’s plenty of food to go around, there’s more wealth than ever before (albeit it’s not well distributed), and yet many people are lonely and unhappy. A hot subject today is the “loneliness epidemic”, although whether it’s actually an epidemic (a rapidly spreading infectious disease) or just the journalist topic du jour remains to be seen.
One suggestion I have for those people: get a dog, take walks, create things, have conversations with people offline, and spend more time outside with your face not glued to your phone.
The Lesson from an Aloof Shiba #
What seems to surprise people most is that she does not care about their timeline. They want the friendly-dog moment right now, and sometimes she just isn’t interested. That’s really it.
When people who genuinely love dogs take the time to approach her properly—getting down to her level, letting her come to them, not making sudden movements—she’s much more likely to engage. That’s usually how it goes with aloof dogs: give them room and let them decide.
So yes, you can pet my dog. Just don’t expect her to act honored by the opportunity. If she walks away, that’s the whole lesson.