Freshwater. Saltwater. Fly tying. Lifestyle. For decades, I have bought plenty of items from every one of those sections in fly fishing catalogs. In recent years, shooting and paddle sports have been added to the mix. Browsing the aisles of an outdoor store or scrolling through an online retailer, I could easily find something anywhere that would be useful. With one exception. Dog stuff. Collars, toys, and treats might as well have been golf clubs or ski poles. I didn’t have a use. But that stuff was always at Orvis, always at Bass Pro, and usually at local fly shops.

Now I have a use. Because now I have a dog.

To be more precise, my family has a puppy. This charming little lab/husky mix’s mom was a rescue. While she was being processed for adoption, she gave birth to eight pups who yielded an unprecedented number of applications. At the same time all of this was happening, I was a month into processing feelings around how much I had enjoyed the company of some family pets over the holidays.

You see, I have been a dog holdout. For my entire adult life. As bad as it sounds, I had always seen an animal that required more attention than a beta fish and more affection than a backyard chicken as a liability. It would take too much time in an already busy family, work, and recreation schedule. There was the cost and the poop and the risk of something nice getting chewed up.

But something happened over Christmas. Playing with  a puppy, I began to think of having a dog in the canoe with me. I smiled at the idea of a dog scampering through the mountains with my family. Although it wasn’t necessary, I really liked the idea of something other than me retrieving ducks and geese that I shot.

I’ve been around bad outdoor dogs. But I think I’ve come to terms with the reality that the majority of these animals are the product of bad pet owners. They let them off leash where and when they shouldn’t be. They allow them to paddle around crowded trout streams. They assume that because there is a fly shop dog that all dogs are welcome in fly shops, fly fishing shows, and anything with the word “fly” around it. Maybe my dog won’t hack it in those settings. Maybe he will. Either way, it is on me to prepare him.

All that said, now I have a use for the dog sections of the catalogs. The dog beds. The camo vests. The fish-scale print collars. The training ducks (please, please, please let him be up for the task of retrieving). Now I have him. Even if I only buy treats, I’m looking forward to see how this good little boy fits into my and my family’s outdoor adventures.