I m a 21st century dog.

I’m a Malinois.

Overskilled among dogs, I excel in all disciplines and am always ready to work: I need to work.

But nowadays I get asked to chill on the couch all day every day.

I am an Akita Inu.

My ancestors were selected for fighting bears.

Today I get asked to be tolerant and get scolded for my reactivity when another approaches me.

I am a Beagle.

When I chase my prey, I raise my voice so the hunters could follow.

Today they put an electric collar on me to get me to shut up and make me come back to you—no running—with a snap of your fingers.

I am a Yorkshire Terrier.

I was a terrifying rat hunter in English mines.

Today they think I can’t use my legs and always hold me in their arms.

I’m a Labrador Retriever.

My vision of happiness is a dive into a pond to bring back to my master the duck they shot.

Today you forget I’m a walking, running, swimming dog; as a result, I’m fat, made to stay indoors, and to babysit.

I am a Jack Russell.

I can take on a fox, a mean badger, and a rat bigger than me in his den.

Today I get scolded for my character and high energy and forced to turn into a quiet living room dog.

I am a Siberian Husky.

I experienced the great, wide open spaces of Northern Europe, where I could drag sleds for long distances at impressive speeds.

Today I only have the walls of the house or a small garden as a horizon, and the holes I dig in the ground just to release energy and frustration, trying to stay sane.

I am a Border Collie

I worked for hours a day in partnership with my master, and I am an unmistakable artist at working with a herd.

Today they are mad at me because, given to not being around sheep, I try to herd bikes, cars, children in the house and pretty much everything in motion.

I am a 21st century dog.

I am pretty, I am alert, I am obedient, I stay in a bag…but I am also an individual who, due to centuries of training, needs to express my instincts. I am not suited for the sedentary life you may want me to lead.

Spending eight hours a day alone in the house or in the garden—with no work and no one to play or run with—seeing you for a short time in the evening when you get home, and only getting a small toilet walk will make me deeply unhappy.

I will express my unhappiness by barking all day, turning your yard into a minefield, doing my business indoors, being unmanageable the rare times I find myself outside, and sometimes spending my days sunk, sad, lonely, and depressed, on my pillow.

You may think I should be happy to be able to enjoy all this comfort while you go to work, but actually I will be exhausted and frustrated, because this is absolutely not what I am meant to do, or what I need to be doing.

If you love me, if you’ve always dreamed of me, if my beautiful eyes or my athletic look make you want me, but you can’t give me a real dog’s life, a life that’s really worth living according to my breed, and if you can’t offer me something like the job my genes are asking for, do not buy or adopt me!

If you like the way I look but aren’t willing to accept my temperament, gifts, and traits derived from long genetic selection, and you think you can change them with only your good will, then do not buy or adopt me!

I am a 21^st century dog, yes, but deep inside me, the one who fought, the one who hunted, the one who pulled sleds, the one who guided and protected a herd still lives within me.

So, please think very carefully before you choose your dog. And think about getting two, rather than one, so I won’t be so lonely waiting for you all day. Eight or ten hours is just a workday to you, but it’s an eternity for me to be alone.

Adapted from David Attenborough Fans