Every January, I do a version of the same thing: I look at the habits that have drifted over the past year and decide which ones are worth rebuilding. Not resolutions in the grand, sweeping sense — I have learned to be skeptical of those — but specific, small adjustments to the daily routine that compound into something meaningful over time.
This year, with a baby coming and our household about to change in ways I can only partially anticipate, that audit feels more important than usual. The routines I build now are the routines that will carry us through the transition. The habits I establish with Shadow and Dexter in January are the habits that will still be running in March, when everything else is new and uncertain and the dogs will need the stability of a routine more than ever.
Here is what I am working on, and why. Some of it is specific to our situation. Most of it applies to any dog owner who wants to start the year with better habits than they ended the last one with.
The Walk Audit
The first thing I do every January is look honestly at the walks. Not the ideal version of the walks — the actual ones. How long are they really? How consistent is the timing? Am I present on them, or am I on my phone? Are they serving the dogs, or are they serving my sense of having done the minimum?
This year's audit revealed what I already suspected: the evening greenway walk had gotten shorter over the holidays. Not dramatically — maybe ten minutes shorter on average — but consistently shorter, and Dexter had noticed. His indoor energy level in the evenings had been higher than usual, which is his reliable signal that the walks are not meeting his needs. Shadow, who is less demanding about duration, had been fine. But Dexter is not a dog who quietly accepts insufficient exercise. He communicates it clearly, and I had been choosing to interpret the communication as something other than what it was.
The fix is simple: restore the full walk length and protect it. Not just for Dexter's sake, but for mine. The evening greenway walk is one of the parts of my day that I value most — the rhythm of it, the light, the way both dogs move differently when they know the route. Letting it shrink was letting something I care about erode by default. January is a good time to stop that.
If you do a walk audit and find that your walks have drifted from what they should be, the solution is almost never a dramatic overhaul. It is a small, specific adjustment: ten minutes longer, one additional walk per day, a different route that provides more mental stimulation. Small and consistent beats ambitious and unsustainable every time.
The Training Refresh
Training is the habit that drifts most easily, because it requires active effort in a way that walks do not. A walk happens because the dog needs to go outside. Training happens because you decide to make it happen, and that decision is easy to defer when the day is full of other things.
Both Shadow and Dexter have skills that have gotten rusty over the past few months. Shadow's stay has gotten shorter — he breaks earlier than he used to, which tells me I have not been practicing it consistently. Dexter's greeting manners, which we worked hard on through the summer, have regressed slightly — he is launching again when he is excited, which tells me the reinforcement has not been consistent enough to maintain the behavior without regular practice.
My January training goal is simple: five minutes of focused training with each dog, every day, for thirty days. Not ambitious. Not a new curriculum. Just consistent reinforcement of the skills they already have, practiced often enough to rebuild the fluency that has faded. By February, both dogs will be sharper, and the habit of daily training will be re-established.
If you are starting training from scratch with a dog that has had no formal training, January is an excellent time to begin. The new year energy is real, and channeling it into something specific and achievable — teaching a reliable sit, a solid stay, a name recall that works in the real world — is more useful than a vague intention to be a better dog owner. Pick one skill. Practice it daily. Build from there.
The Gear Check
Once a year, I go through every piece of gear both dogs use and assess it honestly. Not just whether it is working, but whether it is working as well as it should be.
This year's gear check revealed a few things. Shadow's harness, which has been excellent, is showing wear at one of the strap attachment points — the stitching is beginning to fray in a way that is not yet a safety issue but will be if I ignore it. Dexter's leash handle has compressed from use and is less comfortable to hold than it was. Both dogs' collars are fine, but Shadow's ID tag has become slightly less legible from wear and needs to be replaced.
None of these are urgent. All of them are worth addressing before they become urgent. The gear check is the habit that prevents the moment when something fails at the wrong time — when the harness stitching gives way during a strong pull, or the tag is unreadable when it matters most.
Add a gear check to your January routine. Go through everything: harnesses, leashes, collars, ID tags, beds. Check for wear, check for fit — dogs' weight and coat change seasonally, and gear that fit correctly in October may not fit correctly in January — and replace anything that is showing meaningful wear. It takes thirty minutes and prevents problems that take much longer to manage.
The Health Baseline
January is a good time to schedule the annual veterinary exam if it has not happened recently, and to do a home health check that gives you a baseline for the year ahead.
A home health check is not a substitute for veterinary care. It is a monthly habit of running your hands over your dog's body and paying attention to what you find. Feel for lumps, bumps, or areas of sensitivity that were not there before. Check the skin under the fur for irritation, redness, or parasites. Look at the eyes, ears, and teeth. Check the paws for cracking, overgrown nails, or debris between the toes. Weigh the dog if you have a scale large enough — weight changes are one of the earliest indicators of health changes in either direction.
Shadow gets a home health check every month. I have found things this way — a small lump that turned out to be benign, an ear that was beginning to show signs of infection before it became symptomatic — that I would not have found if I had waited for the annual exam. Early detection is always easier than late treatment. The habit costs five minutes a month and has been worth it every time.
The Enrichment Audit
Mental enrichment is the habit that most dog owners underinvest in, because the consequences of insufficient enrichment are diffuse and easy to attribute to other causes. A dog that is not getting enough mental stimulation becomes restless, destructive, or anxious — but those behaviors are easy to interpret as personality traits rather than unmet needs.
My enrichment audit this January revealed that Dexter's puzzle toy rotation had gotten stale. He has been working through the same three puzzles for months, and he solves them now without any real engagement — the challenge is gone. I am rotating in two new puzzles and retiring the ones he has mastered. Shadow's enrichment is in better shape — his snuffle mat is still engaging, and his training sessions provide the mental work he needs — but I am adding a lick mat to his routine for the evenings when he seems restless.
If you do an enrichment audit and find that your dog's mental stimulation has been insufficient, the fix does not require expensive equipment. Scatter feeding — spreading kibble in the grass or on a snuffle mat rather than serving it in a bowl — turns every meal into a nose work session. Rotating toys so that familiar ones feel novel again costs nothing. A new walking route provides mental stimulation through new smells and environments. Small changes, consistently applied, make a real difference.
The Intention for This Year
This January feels different from previous ones. Angelo and I are preparing for the biggest change our household has ever experienced, and the dogs — who sense the shift in ways that are hard to articulate — are going to need the stability of a strong routine more than ever in the months ahead.
Shadow has been closer than usual. More attentive, more settled, more present in the quiet way he has when he knows something is changing. Dexter has been more affectionate, which I had not thought possible, and more inclined to stay near me rather than ranging around the house the way he usually does. They know. Dogs always know.
The habits I build in January are the habits that will carry all of us through what is coming. The walks, the training, the gear, the health checks, the enrichment — these are not just good dog ownership practices. They are the infrastructure of a stable, loving household that is ready for whatever comes next.
That is what I am building this January. One habit at a time.