They’re different from every other animal. The love people have for their dogs is a strange and enormous thing. When you actually stop and think about it, it’s kind of amazing. We just love these animals like crazy. They’re like little angels.

And the thing I love most about a dog is the tail.

Think about how we read each other. Body language, sure. Posture, hands, the way somebody walks into a room. But mostly we read faces. Mostly we read the smile. Culturally, it’s everything. I’ve been photographing people for thirty years, and most of the job comes down to one word. Smile. That’s the goal. That’s the whole thing.

A dog can’t do that. Neither can any other animal, as far as I know.

VISIT OUR DOG ART GALLERY SUMMER SALE

Instead, they have a tail - a small gauge mounted on the back of a dog that tells you exactly how it’s feeling. That’s insane to me. Nothing else walks around broadcasting its mood on a stick.

Some dogs are tail wagers - kind of like people who are always smiling. Lewie’s tail always wags. It wags when he’s truly happy. If I tell him, “That’s my good boy,” it wags. If I tell him, “We’re going to the beach later,” it wags. If it’s almost dinner, cue the tail! Dinner is on the way. It’s a reaction. It’s feedback. It’s a conversation between us.

Some of you know our other dog, Moses. He’s an old-timer now—an elderly giant-breed dog with arthritis. He mostly lives in our sunroom, where he can see out the window and guard the place. That’s his work area and his comfort zone. Younger Mo used to come sit in the living room with the rest of us. Not so much anymore.

Last night, Amy and I, our two kids, who are young adults now, and Lewie were watching TV (yes, Lewie watches TV!). And Mo came into the room.

He usually only comes in because he’s scared - like when he’s heard fireworks somewhere in the distance and is seeking shelter under our coffee table (which we call his turtle shell). But last night, Mo just walked into the room to be with us for no reason that I could see or hear.

And Lewie’s tail started going. Back and forth. He was just happy Mo was there. And it struck me that when we tell Moses he’s a good boy, Lewie’s tail wags. The same thing happens if I get up and go over to pet Mo. Lewie’s tail starts up. And it isn’t involuntary or just the tone of my voice. If I go squat down next to a stuffed animal and pet it, nothing happens. The tail doesn’t wag.

It seems he’s genuinely happy for Moses.

We don’t usually give dogs credit for emotions like that. For being glad about something that has nothing to do with them. But there it is, going back and forth on the living room floor every time.

Maybe dogs can’t smile.

But they have a tail.

And I think that might be better.

They are family. They lie on our couch, ride in our car, go on our vacations and are woven into the rhythm of our days. We buy them special food, worry about whether they’re comfortable, rearrange our schedules around them and, in many cases, give them a pretty significant amount of real estate in our beds. We talk to them like they understand every word we’re saying. And sometimes we are sure they do! ‘

We humanize them because, to us, they’re not just animals. They are our fur children. Our companions. Our best friends. And then one day you walk outside and find your best friend with a mouthful of baby bunnies.

That was Moses.

Visit Our Dog Art Gallery SUMMER SALE

Moses is the kind of dog who carries himself with a certain dignity. A 145-pound gentleman. Distinguished. Sweet. Gentle. Thoughtful.

Moses, acting so sophisticated

And, apparently, also a bunny hunter. We can still remember the shock of realizing what he had done. There was a moment of complete disbelief, followed quickly by the realization: Oh. Right. He’s an animal.

And now, during bunny season, we conduct a quick reconnaissance mission of the yard before Moses is allowed outside.

Then there was our Lab Indy. Indy once found a dead seagull on the beach and ate it.

Not sniffed it.

Not licked it.

Ate it.

And we were horrified.

Indy, circa 1999, ready to eat anything she can sniff out

Lewie, meanwhile, has never met a dead fish he didn’t think would make an excellent cologne. Nothing brings you back to the reality of your dog’s animal nature faster than watching your beloved family member enthusiastically roll his body all over something that has been decomposing in the sun.

Lewie, looking like he smells something fishy

And maybe that’s part of what makes living with dogs so fascinating. We’ve brought them completely into our human world. They know the sound of the treat cabinet opening. They recognize the word “walk.” They know exactly which piece of furniture belongs to them, despite the fact that we paid for it. They can even tell time by knowing exactly when their dinner should be served.

But underneath all of that domestication, there is an animal in there. An animal that hunts. An animal that scavenges. An animal that occasionally thinks something dead smells absolutely fantastic.

We can buy them cute collars, let them sleep under the covers, and refer to ourselves as their parents all we want, but every once in a while, they’re going to remind us: I love you. I am part of your family…and like it or not, I am still an animal.

At our house, that’s definitely true…at least for one of them.

Moses has always been a winter dog. Give him a snowstorm, a crisp morning, or a pile of fresh powder, and he’s convinced life couldn’t get any better. Summer, on the other hand? Not so much. He’ll happily find the coolest patch of shade (dig himself a cool crater in the backyard), stretch out, and wait for the weather to come to its senses.

Then there’s Lewie.

Lewie is a Labrador with a completely baffling relationship with heat. While many of us are seeking out air conditioning, he’s out sunbathing on the hottest stones in the yard like he’s on vacation at a luxury resort. More than once we’ve had to coax him inside because we were convinced he might actually melt or spontaneously combust. Somehow, he seems perfectly content baking in the sunshine.

VISIT OUR DOG ART GALLERY'S SUMMER SALE

It makes me wonder if dogs have favorite temperatures the same way people do.

I’m definitely happiest in the warmth of summer. Ron enjoys warm weather too, although he’s a little quicker to find some shade than I am. Other people count the days until autumn arrives because they simply can’t stand the heat. Maybe our dogs aren’t all that different. Some thrive in the cold. Others seem to believe sunshine is the greatest invention ever.

Which brings me to something I’ve often wondered: where did the phrase dog days of summer actually come from? I did a little research, and it turns out it has nothing to do with dogs napping on the porch.

The expression dates back to ancient Rome, when people noticed that the brightest star in the night sky, Sirius, also known as the “Dog Star” (because it’s part of the constellation Canis Major), rose around the same time as the hottest stretch of the year. They believed Sirius contributed to the sweltering weather, and the name stuck. Today, we still use “dog days of summer” to describe those long, sticky weeks from roughly early July into mid-August.

Whether your dog spends those weeks chasing waves at the beach, snoozing under a shady tree, or soaking up the sun like Lewie, summer has its own slower rhythm. Walks happen earlier and/or later, naps get longer. Everyone seems a little less interested in hurrying and a little more interested in ice cream and pupsicles.

Maybe that’s the real gift of the dog days of summer. A reminder from our dogs, that not every day has to be packed with activity. Sometimes it’s enough to find your favorite spot, enjoy the warmth of the sun, and simply be.

(Unless you’re Moses. Then you’ll just be counting the days until the first snowfall.)

*All images featured are part of Ron’s Summer Dog Art Collection. You can find them all here:

Visit Ron's Dog Art Collection

Happy Summer!

Amy & Ron

Thank you for loving him right along with us. It means more than you know.

VISIT OUR SUMMER DOG ART SALE

Moses is ten and a half now, inching toward eleven, and lately we’ve been noticing it more. The walks are shorter. The pace is slower. The hills that he used to charge up without a second thought now require consideration. Getting into the car isn’t automatic anymore. The back legs that once launched 150 pounds of dog into the back of our SUV aren’t cooperating the way they used to.

Moses at sunset

So, we’ve adapted. We park closer. We leave a little earlier. We lift when he needs lifting. We choose walking routes based on what he can comfortably do instead of what we’d like to do. And surprisingly, that’s been one of the gifts of loving an aging dog. Because when they slow down, they teach you to slow down too and notice things you might otherwise rush past, like a patch of wild flowers or the chirping of birds in a nearby tree.

Vistit Ron's Dog Art Site ✨SUMMER SALE✨

A walk that used to be measured in miles is now measured in minutes. A successful outing might simply mean that Moses got outside, walked around the block, sniffed a few interesting smells, felt the sun on his face, and came home content. That’s enough.

Of course, slowing down doesn’t mean stopping. While there are things Moses can’t do the way he once did, we still look for ways to keep him engaged. The long walks have become shorter walks. The adventures have become simpler ones.

At home, we’ve started relying more on chew toys and food puzzles that give him something to focus on. If he can’t burn energy covering miles or going to doggy daycare, he can still exercise his mind. He can still solve a problem, work for a treat, and enjoy the satisfaction of doing something that feels purposeful. It’s a different kind of activity, but it’s an activity nonetheless.

Bone, chewed

We’ve noticed something similar with Ron’s mom.

When we used to visit her, the days were full. We’d go here, then there, always trying to fit in one more thing. But now, in her mid-eighties, life moves at a different pace. We still make sure she gets out. We still encourage her to walk because movement matters. But the expectations have changed.

Maybe instead of spending hours shopping, we spend twenty minutes strolling through a store she enjoys. And we now head to dinner much earlier, and we sit a little longer. Maybe the destination matters less than simply being together.

The goal isn’t doing more. The goal is to make sure the things that still bring joy remain part of the day.

There’s a similarity between the old dog carefully making his way down the driveway and the elderly parent taking measured steps through a parking lot. Both are reminders that aging isn’t necessarily about stopping. It’s about adjusting. And maybe that’s something the rest of us struggle with more than they do.

Because while Moses has slowed down, Lewie hasn’t. He still races through life with all the enthusiasm and energy of a younger dog. And that’s a reminder, too. Life contains both things at once - the slowing down and the speeding up.

The trick is learning to appreciate each season for what it is.

Mo and Lewie, napping in the sun

To cherish the dog who can still run and the dog who can only stroll.

To value the energy that’s still ahead while also honoring the quieter pace that comes with age.

Mostly, though, it’s about recognizing that love can be matching someone else’s speed. And discovering that when you do, you find lovely things worth noticing there, too.

Happy Father’s Day to ALL Dads!!

SHOP OUR DOG DADS DAY SALE

Then Moses barked.

Not a casual little bark. Not a “hmm, I noticed something” bark. This was a full Moses announcement. The kind of bark that says, “Attention, neighbors! I have information.”

Within seconds, another dog down the street answered.

Then another.

Then another.

And suddenly, our peaceful little neighborhood had become a canine call center.

Visit Our Dog Art Gallery's Summer Sale

I sat there listening to it bounce from yard to yard, like the dogs were playing a game of telephone.

Moses: “There may be a delivery truck.”

Dog One: “Moses says there is a delivery truck!”

Dog Two: “There is definitely a delivery truck coming down the street.”

Dog Three: “We are under attack.”

Dog Four: “I have no details, but I support barking.”

Mo’s favorite place in the backyard with a view of the street

I have no proof this is what they were saying, of course. Science suggests that dogs do use different kinds of barks for different situations, and that other dogs can recognize some of those differences. But it also may be simpler than that. One dog barks, another dog hears it, and thinks, “Well, if we’re doing this, I’m in.”

Moses is very much “in.” He is our household correspondent. If something happens, he reports it. A truck door closes. A leaf moves suspiciously. A neighbor exists too close to the house. Moses feels the public deserves to know.

Lewie, on the other hand, does not participate. And I only just recently realized this. Lewie rarely barks in response to other dogs barking. He may bark occasionally, but he is not joining the neighborhood discussion. He is not forwarding the message. He is not adding his comments to the thread. He’s more of a silent observer.

Lewie, bored with the conversation

Maybe he finds it undignified. Maybe he has decided the whole thing is beneath him. Maybe he already knows the barking rarely leads to anything meaningful, like steak or a ride in the car.

Whatever the reason, Moses is out there running communications for the block, and Lewie is inside quietly declining the meeting.

Honestly, I respect both approaches. Some dogs are town criers. Some dogs are talkers. Some dogs are just chill. And some of us are just sitting outside, listening to four dogs down the street argue about a delivery truck we may never see.

This week, we’re having our annual Spring 15% off sale on Ron’s artwork across both of our sites. If you’ve been thinking about adding a piece to your home or giving one as a gift, this is a good time. Links are below.

SHOP CANVAS ART & MORE

SHOP SIGNED & LIMITED EDITION PRINTS

About us:

The Ron Schmidt art brand is owned by the creative duo of Ron and Amy Schmidt. Ron is the internationally award-winning photographer behind some of the world’s most clever dog images.

Ron created his niche in conceptual, witty dog imagery by chance. It began when he created a holiday card for his commercial clients. The card featured his yellow lab carrying a Christmas tree and axe and was an instant success. Amy joined Ron bringing her background in communications, marketing, and business production to the company. Together, they have created an artistic venture that spans the globe and has captured the hearts of dog lovers worldwide.

As a conceptual photographer and artist, Ron brings a strong sense of design and storytelling to his images, allowing him to create timeless and engaging collectible artwork that will be enjoyed and cherished for years to come.

Ron’s art has been featured in public installations, magazines, publications, and on products sold worldwide. Clients include Hallmark, Penguin Random House, Scholastic, LL Bean, Boston Children’s Hospital, Embark, Purina and The US Post Office.

They said that as your dog gets older, you should know their three favorite things. And, when they stop wanting those three things, the time may be getting close.

Not a bad day. Not a one-off moment. Not one quiet afternoon. But when the things that have always brought them joy no longer call to them, it may be their way of telling you what they cannot say out loud.

Ron and I have carried this information with us for a long time because if you love an old dog, you already know the hardest part is not loving them through the gray muzzle, the slower steps, or the stiff mornings. The hardest part is wondering when. Wondering how you will know. Wondering if you are holding on for them or for yourself.

Visit Our Dog Art Gallery

Dogs do not explain their pain. They do not make speeches. They just go on being brave and loyal and present, even when their world has gotten smaller. That is why I think the Rule of Three matters.

For Moses, the three are easy. He loves going for walks in the pine tree park at the end of our street. He adores plain yogurt and vanilla ice cream. And he absolutely loves going to Frisky Dog, his beloved daycare and second home. Even now, those things light him up, get his tail wagging, and give him bounce in his step.

Mo and Lewie on a walk in the Pines

For Lewie, his would be chasing a tennis ball, cuddling on the couch with us, and eating his after-dinner dessert carrot. Though, to be fair, Lewie is a Labrador, so almost any food could probably make the list.

The point is not to make a dramatic checklist. It is to pay attention. To really see your dog as they are, not as you want them to be. To notice the things that still make their eyes brighten, their tail move, their body lean toward life.

Because quality of life is not measured only by test results or age or how many good days are left on a calendar. Sometimes it is measured in yogurt, tennis balls, couches, carrots, walks, and the joy of arriving at daycare.

There is sadness in that, yes. But there is also something deeply comforting. The Rule of Three reminds us what matters most in the end, and maybe in the middle, too. Joy. Comfort. Familiar rituals. Love. The small things that make a life feel like a life.

Maybe that is the positive side of all of this. Our dogs show us, over and over again, that a good life does not have to be complicated. It just has to be filled with the things we love. Most of them are as simple as a bowl of plain yogurt or a tennis ball.

Visit Our Dog Art Gallery

Here’s what I’ve realized. Our routines define us. We do not always like to admit that. Routines sound small, almost embarrassing, like the opposite of adventure. But the truth is, the things we do every single day are not just habits. They are the shape of who we are. And one of the things that shapes us, completely and without apology, is loving and caring for our dogs. The morning walk. The park run. The moment you walk past them on the couch and just put your hand on them without thinking about it. Those things are not background noise. They are part of what makes a day feel like ours.

The difference between dogs and children, of course, is that we have a choice. You do not leave your kids for two weeks. With dogs, there is a kind of permission built into the relationship. They adjust, they manage, they seem okay. And we are lucky. Our son, home from college, is with them. He loves them as much as we do, and he was glad to do it. So we knew they were fine. That is not the same as not missing them.

We do FaceTime calls with our son, and we always end up talking about the dogs and as funny as it sounds, to the dogs. Honestly, for most of the trip, they have been completely indifferent to the phone. You would say a keyword, maybe get a flicker, and that would be it - no recognition of our voices, no reaction to our faces on the screen. Which, rationally, makes complete sense. But on a human level, you hope for something. And then, a few days ago, something shifted. We were talking to Lewie, telling him we were coming home soon, that we were going to see him, that we had been gone too long. And his ears came up. Not the half-interested, something-is-happening ears. The real ones. He was listening. After a week and a half of round-the-clock life not being together, I think he knew. Maybe I am projecting. But I do not think I am.

That is the thing about dogs, and maybe it is the whole thing about dogs. They give us purpose. Not in a grand, philosophical way, though maybe that too. In the daily way. The way that the morning is organized around them, and the evening, and the walk, and the snack, and the look they give you from across the room for no reason at all. We bring something to them and they bring something enormous back to us, and neither one is just about food and warmth. We are almost home. We cannot wait.

One note — if you saw our post about Spain vs. Florida, you know this trip was not what it might look like from the outside. We have not done something like this in five years, and we pulled it off on a real budget. That post is worth a read if you have ever talked yourself out of something because you assumed it was out of reach.

They don’t need a promotion, a milestone birthday, a vacation booked six months in advance, or a special occasion circled on the calendar. They celebrate simple, ordinary moments like it’s the headline event. And living with Mo and Lewie means you get a front-row seat to that philosophy.

When we walk in the door, it is a full celebration - like we’ve just returned from a heroic voyage, when really, we just went to the grocery store.

When we open the refrigerator, another celebration - but one that can be extremely optimistic or disappointing. The minute the fridge door is cracked, they both appear as if summoned, convinced that the fridge opening is a strong sign that something life-changing is about to happen.

VISIT OUR DOG ART GALLERY

When we wake up in the morning, Lewie is already waiting. He acts like it has been years since he last saw us. He stretches, yawns, and then launches into joy like he’s been counting the minutes until we returned to consciousness. He also knows that we feed him when we wake up – so he may have a secondary reason for celebrating.

“Good morning,” his whole body says. “You’re back. The day can begin. Let’s eat!”

When we say the word “park,” it’s a celebration. When we grab the leashes, tails start wagging frantically. When we pull into the parking lot, it’s hard to keep them in the car until the door is completely opened – they are so excited just to be out in the world.

Sometimes, Mo and Lewie celebrate each other. If one has been at daycare and the other hasn’t, they welcome each other with sniffs, they circle, they wag like they’re exchanging stories.

And then there’s the wood stove.

Lewie has a special kind of joy reserved for when Ron makes a fire. The second Ron starts building the fire, Lewie is at his side, sometimes giving Ron kisses as his special thank you. He positions himself like he’s won a prize as the heat envelopes him. He lets out the kind of satisfied sigh that makes you think, “Comfort is not complicated.”

Watching them do this over and over has made me wonder why we ration our celebrations. Somewhere along the way, it seems many of us start acting like joy is something you need to earn or something you should justify. We save it for the big things. We dismiss the little things. We rush past the ordinary, as if it doesn’t count. But to a dog, the ordinary is the whole point.

You’re home. That counts.

We’re together. That counts.

There’s warmth. That counts.

We’re going outside. That counts.

Dogs don’t require perfection before they let themselves feel good. They don’t delay joy until every box is checked. They don’t say, “I’ll be happy once I lose the weight, once the weather improves, once life calms down.” They take the good the moment it shows up.

I know that we can’t live like dogs. We have responsibilities, anxieties, calendars, and brains that like to replay everything we’ve ever said wrong - but I do think there’s something worth copying from them.

Maybe the lesson isn’t “celebrate everything” in a forced, performative way. Maybe it’s simpler: notice what’s good while it’s happening.

Notice when someone walks through the door.

Notice when you sit down with a hot cup of coffee.

Notice the warmth of your house.

Notice the ridiculous gift of being alive on a random Tuesday.

Mo and Lewie don’t need a reason. They just need the moment. And when you live with that kind of joy long enough, it starts to rub off - kind of like with this truckload of labs that came to a photoshoot!

Even writing this feels strange, because in our heads, he’s still a big baby with a simple and sweet heart. But 10 is real. It’s the double digits that are getting to us because it’s officially old age for a dog of his size.

We’ve always celebrated our dogs’ birthdays, because that’s what dog parents do. We make a fuss. We take photos… and with Ron, that means lots of them. We talk to them like they understand the concept of time and know it’s their big day. We give them special treats and act like it’s the best party in town.

But this year feels different.

There’s a sweetness to it, with a tinge of heartache. Once your dog becomes a senior, you start noticing things you may not have before. We notice how Moses rises more slowly in the morning or after a nap. We see the way he seeks out a softer spot to lie down on and the moments where he now pauses and thinks before he jumps into the back of our SUV - like he’s doing a quiet calculation of whether he’ll make it.

Parents of senior dogs start paying attention in a new way. We become a little more protective. We worry a little more, even when everything is fine.

We’ve already started making adjustments to accommodate our old boy. We’ve added things to help him age well and move better. We’ve put more focus on comfort, joint support, mobility, and the little changes that make his day easier, like area rugs all over so he’s more confident walking around the house.

The goal is simple: to keep his life feeling like his life because Mo doesn’t wake up thinking, “I’m aging” as humans do. He wakes up thinking about breakfast and then about going outside, the smells on his walk at the off-leash park where he can roam free, the taste of his daily spoon of yogurt, and about being by our side as our gentle guardian dog. He’s fully present for it all.

And that’s the part that gets us. Dogs live so fully in the present even as they age, while we live with one eye on the clock.

So, for his birthday, we want to do two things at once, even though they tug against each other. We want to make the day feel special, not just because he deserves it but because he has been the heartbeat of our home for a decade and has touched our hearts in his own special way. And, we also want to hold the day gently. Not in a sad way, but in a mindful way, feeling gratitude for having him in our lives.

And maybe that’s the real point. When our dogs hit these milestones, it’s not just about them. It’s also about us facing time. We feel their aging alongside our own. We understand, in a deeper way, that the years move quickly. That love doesn’t make anything permanent, but it does make everything meaningful.

So happy birthday, Mo. Ten years of you has been one of the best things that’s ever happened to us. Let the celebration begin!

Like most dog parents, we immediately had a bunch of questions: how Embark’s test works, what “breed detection” really means, and how the health insights are meant to be used in real life (especially for rescues and mixed breeds). We sent our questions directly to one of Embark’s scientists, and what she shares is equally fascinating!

1. Can you explain in simple terms how Embark’s DNA test works? What happens to my dog’s sample once I mail it in?

Embark’s DNA test starts with a simple cheek swab that collects your dog’s saliva and skin cells from inside the mouth. Once you mail the sample back to Embark, it is logged into the lab. The DNA is then extracted and analyzed using a custom genotyping platform that looks at tens of thousands of markers spread across your dog’s genome. These markers are compared to Embark’s large reference database, which allows Embark’s scientists to identify breed ancestry, screen for known genetic health conditions, calculate COI, and generate your dog’s personalized report. Throughout the process, quality control checks are built in to ensure accurate results. Once analysis is complete, results are reviewed and then released to you through your secure online account, where they remain available for your dog’s lifetime.

2. Embark tests for 400+ breeds. How is that possible when there are “only” around 200 recognized breeds? What makes your breed detection so accurate?

Embark is able to test for 400+ breeds because “recognized breeds” represent only a portion of the genetic diversity found in dogs worldwide. In addition to major kennel club–recognized breeds, there are many breed varieties, rare breeds, and regional village dog populations that are genetically distinct, even if they are not formally recognized by organizations like the AKC or FCI. Embark has built one of the largest and most diverse canine DNA reference databases, developed using high-quality samples from dogs around the world with well-documented ancestry.

Breed detection works by comparing tens of thousands of genetic markers from a dog’s DNA to this reference database and identifying genetic patterns that match specific breeds or populations. Accuracy comes from both the breadth of the reference data and the number of markers analyzed, which allows Embark to distinguish between closely related breeds and identify mixed ancestry.

*Use the promocode GOODDOGMA at checkout for $5 Off the Breed + Health Test

Get an Embark DNA Test Here

3. Can you share a story where early detection through DNA testing made a real difference in a dog’s life?

In one case, a dog tested with Embark was found to be genetically at risk for Hemophilia A, an inherited bleeding disorder. When the dog was later attacked by another dog and began bleeding excessively, the owner was able to immediately share the Embark results with the veterinarian. Knowing the underlying cause of the bleeding allowed the vet to administer appropriate treatment quickly and helped avoid extensive and costly diagnostics to determine why the bleeding was so severe.

In another case, a German Shepherd showed clinical signs that initially led a veterinarian to suspect degenerative myelopathy, a condition that cannot be definitively diagnosed during life. Embark results showed the dog was clear of the SOD1A variant associated with degenerative myelopathy, which prompted the veterinarian to continue investigating rather than stopping further diagnostics. This led to the discovery of a different, treatable condition, allowing the dog to receive appropriate care and live many more years.

In a third example, a Golden Retriever with chronic skin issues had undergone multiple treatments without success, leading to repeated vet visits and growing frustration for the owner. Embark testing identified a genetic risk for ichthyosis, which was later confirmed through a skin biopsy. With a clear understanding that the condition was genetic and chronic, the owner and veterinarian were able to shift from trial-and-error treatments to long-term management, improving clarity, expectations, and the dog’s quality of life.

4. If someone adopts a rescue and has no idea what breeds might be in the mix, how can knowing their dog’s DNA improve their daily life together - from exercise needs to training approaches?

When someone adopts a rescue dog and has no information about their background, understanding their dog’s DNA can provide valuable insight into behavior, energy level, and training needs that may not be obvious from appearance alone. As one example, a veterinarian shared a case where a rescue dog that appeared to be a black Labrador had been returned to a shelter multiple times due to high energy and training challenges. After running an Embark DNA test, the dog was found to be a mix of Labrador Retriever and Belgian Malinois, a breed known for intense drive, intelligence, and working ability. With this insight, the owner was able to adjust expectations, increase structured exercise and mental stimulation, and shift training approaches in a way that better matched the dog’s needs, ultimately allowing the dog to remain successfully in the home. While DNA results do not determine personality or guarantee behavior, breed ancestry can offer a useful framework that helps owners, trainers, and veterinarians make more informed decisions about exercise, enrichment, and training, improving daily life and long-term outcomes for both dogs and their families.

5. How should a dog owner use their health results? Should they bring them to their vet, or are they more for personal knowledge?

Embark health results are meant to be shared with a veterinarian and used as part of a dog’s overall health care, not just for personal reference. Genetic results can help guide conversations about monitoring, screening, and preventive care, especially for conditions that may not show symptoms early in life. Knowing a dog’s breed ancestry can also help veterinarians consider breed-associated health risks and patterns, even for conditions where a specific genetic test does not yet exist. Embark results do not diagnose disease or replace routine veterinary care, but when shared with a vet, they provide valuable context that supports more informed, personalized care decisions throughout a dog’s life.

Huge thanks to Embark’s science team for taking the time to answer these in plain English. Mo’s results sparked so many “oh wow” moments for us, and we hope this Q&A gives you a clearer sense of how Embark works and how the results can be useful in knowing and sharing your dog’s story.

If you’re interested in understanding your dog better, you can grab an Embark DNA test through our link below. Use the promocode GOODDOGMA at checkout for $5 Off the Breed + Health Test.

Fetch an Embark DNA Test

About Embark Scientist Dr. Kari Cueva, DVM: Dr. Kari Cueva, DVM, is the Associate Director of Veterinary Genetics at Embark. She started with Embark in 2019, and her primary role is to expand our health testing capabilities. She is a 2011 graduate of the University of California, Davis College of Veterinary Medicine. Her research background includes four years in canine genetics with Dr. Mark Neff, and genetics fellowships at Cornell University and the National Institutes of Health. She continues to practice emergency medicine at a local animal hospital. Dr. Cueva enjoys spending time with her two kids, hiking with her German Shorthaired Pointer, and fixing her house.

*Sponsored: This post is sponsored by Embark. We were compensated for this content. All opinions are our own.

Good Dogma is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Wishing you and yours a healthy, happy, and prosperous 2026!

Warmly,

Amy, Ron, Lewie and Mo

For us dog owners, dogs are not just pets; they are family members. They’re in the photos, in the traditions, in the memories we capture - especially during the holidays. For Ron and me, taking holiday pictures of our dogs goes way back, because one of the very first images that launched our entire dog photography business was a holiday card.

It is a photo of our Labrador, Indy, with a Christmas tree on her back. Ron and I tromped out into the woods with Indy, a mini tree from Home Depot, and a pocket full of cheese to keep Indy focused. Ron had the image made into cards and sent it out to his photography clients back when he was building his professional business. The response was immediate. His clients went nuts over it, in the best way.

I still remember the moment Ron turned to me and said, “I think we’re onto something.”

He was right.

That single card became the spark for what has now been 25 years of creating dog-centered images, stories, and art. Over the years, we’ve included our dogs in our holiday cards, almost like a timeline of our life together.

There was Indy, of course.

And more recently, you’ve seen Lewie.

And this year, even Moses is getting a card of his own!

Somehow, our rescue Sammy never made it onto a card, but here he is in the snow!

We hope these images bring you joy this season, and maybe even inspire you to include your own dog in the frame, if you haven’t already (though we’re guessing most of you have). Because years from now, those are the cards…and the memories you keep.

SHOP CANVAS AND BOOKS

SHOP SIGNED ART PRINTS

Fetch great art for dog lovers by Ron Schmidt at our two flagship sites:

SHOP Loose Leashes - Canvas Art & More

Shop Ron Schmidt Art for Fine Art Prints

Dog Art by Ron Schmidt makes the perfect gift for the dog lovers on your list…or for yourself! Our holiday sale is on now.

Fetch 15% Off Sitewide on both of Ron’s sites - Ron Schmidt Art, featuring prints and framed art, and Loose Leashes featuring gallery wrapped canvas, apparel, and more! Sale ends Dec. 4th. Discount taken at checkout.

SHOP FINE ART PRINTS SALE HERE

SHOP CANVAS, APPAREL & MORE SALE HERE

We are thankful for their silliness - their goofy ways, habits, routines, and the way they get the zoomies at the most random times.

We are thankful for their boundless energy that gets us outside to move our bodies and breathe fresh air when it would be easier to stay on the couch.

We are thankful for their selflessness, the way they curl up at our feet or press against our side when we need comfort more than we need words.

We are thankful for their resilience, how they bounce back from setbacks, surgeries, and hard beginnings with a wag and a fresh start, greeting every day anew.

We are thankful for their ability to forgive us and others, to reset after we are distracted or impatient, moving on to the next moment, ready to start again.

We are thankful for their loyalty, the quiet way they choose us, always us, every single day.

We are thankful for their endless, uncomplicated love that makes our lives bigger, fuller, and more hopeful.

We are thankful for dogs.

And, we are thankful for you! Thank you for being a part of our lives and our journey.

Wishing you and yours a Happy Thanksgiving!

Amy & Ron

Lewie at his favorite spot, by Grammy

Except for one thing. Visits we come with our Labrador Lewie, whom she calls “the little one”.

When we walk through the door without him, she is happy to see us. When we walk through the door with him, Grammy lights up. Her whole energy changes. It’s like she’s been waiting since the moment he last left to see him again. Lewie jots over to her, tail wagging, and gently goes in for a little kiss, which he NEVER does with us. It’s as if he has always understood that this is his job.

Lewie, sitting with Grammy on the couch

We always visit for a few days, but those few moments of Lewie first finding Grammy’s door on his own and him greeting her are the best part of the visit.

Visit Our Dog Art Gallery

It makes complete sense that hospitals, nursing homes, and memory care facilities bring in therapy dogs. The bond between people and dogs is usually formed early in many people’s lives, and it runs deep. If you are a dog person at 8, you are a dog person at 88. We do not age out of our love for dogs. Our bodies may slow down, our memories get spotty, but the part of us that responds to a head in our lap, or a wagging tail, somehow stays sharply alive.

Grammy, in one of her favorite sweaters.

We know that not everyone can own a dog in their later years. Health, mobility, finances, and housing can make that unrealistic. But the visit of a dog, even a borrowed one, can change the emotional status of someone for a whole day. A dog does not bring small talk or medical updates. A dog brings companionship, comfort, and warmth. They don’t get upset if you forget their name or that you can’t chase a ball with them; they adore you for exactly who you are in that moment.

Seeing what good “medicine” Lewie is for Grammy makes me think about how many elders are sitting in quiet rooms right now, waiting for something to look forward to. A weekly visit from family. A phone call. A holiday. Imagine if more of those empty squares on the calendar simply read, “Dog is coming!”

There are ALWAYS presents at Grammy’s house…and treats too!

If you have an older parent, neighbor, or friend who loves dogs, consider asking if you can bring your dog over to visit. You may be pleasantly surprised at the answer! For someone who is homebound, that wagging tail might be the brightest part of their week. And the beautiful thing is, the dog will think they are the lucky one too.