Why do they call it “doggy paddle?”

So, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the doggy paddle. It’s the awkward swim stroke that most young children use, where they keep their heads (barely) above water, flap their arms in front of them under water like an 80’s sitcom chick slap fight, and kick frantically, all while looking miserably panic stricken and QUITE a bit less than graceful. I’ve always wondered why it was called the doggy paddle. I mean, did dogs actually invent it?

Regardless of who named it, it brings me to my next story. Depending on what order you read this crap in, you may or may not already know that my hound dog is the love of my life. For the first 30 years of my life (and I am 30, now) I had zero material instinct*. That is to say, I have no desire to have a HUMAN child. However, my dog, (and two cats, and bunny, and fish….) are LIKE children to me. I talk TO them, and about them as if they are little humans. Even more “creepy cat lady” -esque, I talk FOR them. They have their own “voices” and anybody who knows us, knows which animal is talking based on the voice. Ok, yeah, I need help…

And now I will ACTUALLY tell the story… I used to take my dog-child, Jameson (yeah, mama likes to drink) to a dog park out in Shirlington, VA. It was such an incredible place. It was fully fenced – maybe a half mile from the entrance to the back of the park. There were poop bag stations, water bowls, and even a little private fenced in area for the little dogs. Just outside the fence on the left of the park, was a little stream. I had never really brought Jamie around any water, and I know that dogs usually love to swim!

So one day, we are at the park, and I decided to take Jamie out of the fence to go swimming. It was a BEAUTIFUL day, and I had shorts on, so I figured I could just walk out into the water with him. He trotted down the banking with me, and onto the little sandy beach area. I walked into the water, with him following behind me, and the second his front toenail hit the water, he FROZE. Full blown screeching halt. The only other time I’ve ever seen him come to that much of a panic-stop, is when we go to the vet!

Jamie was a rescue, and had never really displayed very many dog-like tendencies. It was like he was never taught how to be a dog. So I figured this was just another example of that, and once I brought him into the water, he’d tap into his canine instincts and start paddling away! So I dragged the poor fella into the water. It was a heck of a fight, and I was getting just as tired as he was. I decided, in the interest of time, I would just pick him up, walk out into the stream, and put him in the water so he could instinctually swim! I picked him up (which he loved… LOT of kisses) and walked out to about hip level. I planted my feet then just set him in the water. It made this little “thoomphhh” noise as he went in, and he went all the way down to the bottom. And he stayed there. …and he stayed down there a little more. I looked around and could see people staring at me, as I stood crotch deep in water, with a leash in my hand, and bubbles coming to the surface in front of me. I waited for a little bit and realized that my buddy was NOT coming back up on his on, so I bent down and put my hands under his belly and brought him to the surface. Sweet Jesus. He came up snorting and coughing, and starting SLAPPING his paws against the water, doing a terrible imitation of a doggy paddle, making little sputtering noises as I guided him to land. That was the first and last time I’ve taken Jameson swimming. Moral of the story? Not ALL doggies can paddle!

*Writer’s edit – I am now fast approaching 32, and still zero maternal instinct. Just figured you needed an update on that. Carry on now.