When I am not at the Bistro or my other two jobs, I live with a misanthropic dog.
It’s not entirely true that he doesn’t like people; he likes people, but is not very good at liking.
Mickey also growls at and bites people.
There are folks who think that dogs are good judges of character; he is not. He has bitten some of the best people I know. People see him and say, “Oh! He’s so cute! Is he sweet?” No. He isn’t. It is just a matter of time before he snaps at you.
Vets insist he be muzzled and sometimes even drugged before they will examine him.
Mickey is a Cairn Terriorist.
He seems to hate most people, but he loves me.
He still bites me occasionally, but usually I bite him back, and I weigh 150 pounds more than he does.
I also growl and bark more loudly.
Because he is unpredictable and vicious, he is often called “Stupid Dog!” but he is not. He is quite smart–not wise, but clever.
Once, when we were taking care of a golden retriever, the two of them were completing for my attention. Biscuit won by sitting on me–all 200 pounds of him. Mickey stared at him a minute, then walked into another room, and came back carrying a tennis ball in his mouth. He looked at Biscuit for a moment, then he flicked his head, tossing the tennis ball into the next room. Biscuit bounded off after it, and Mickey quietly took his place.
Mickey was a stray when we got him.
He appears to have been on the road for quite a while–his claws were worn down, and he had at least 4 intestinal parasites. He has an odd kink in his tail, so I think it was broken at some point. He will never allow anyone to touch his tail, in fact, he will turn with a furious snarl if startled from the back, sometimes even if touched anywhere near his haunches.
I put up with him; in fact, I’m rather fond of him, but I accept that 
his affection will not come when I choose, but rather when he chooses. I wonder what happened in the two or three years before I knew him. I wonder if he chose to run away from something, I wonder what broke his tail and stiffened that hip. I assume he has his reasons for his fear and anger; sometimes, they catch up to him in his nightmares, or during storms and loud noises.
I will never know; he is a dog and can never tell me his history.
Yet he does have one.
I don’t have to understand him to care for him.
I just have to care, and to be there with food, water, play, companionship, long walks on the AT. and a lap for naps.
It’s actually better if I know I don’t understand him, and I don’t make any assumptions or have expectations.
I just have to read his mood right now.
He doesn’t really understand me either, and he knows this.
Yet he is fond of me.
He doesn’t have to be sweet for me to care for him. His unpredictability and lack of insight don’t remove my responsibility to care for him, rather they make it stronger.
After all, we humans should be the understanding creatures.
As the “parent” to a once abused dog I adopted from the shelter, I understand this more than I can say. Lila can be downright awful to people, but that doesn’t mean I can or even want to abandon her. Lack of understanding (or agreement, even) doesn’t mean a lack of responsibility.
For me this is the best thing you’ve written. I love Mickey just from reading this. I would love to meet him someday. He doesn’t have to be cute or sweet, he just has to be a dog. If he bites, it’s no big deal. I’ve been bitten at least 12 times in my life and it never stopped me from loving each and every dog, horse, cat, or rabbit that bit me.
Had a Cairn years ago. Great dog but, boy, was he hard headed! His name? Why “Toto”, of course!
I don’t take it personally when one of the cats or horses takes a nip at me (the dogs, purebred bluffers, only ever growl); clearly, I have crossed a boundary and how else are they supposed to say “Back off!” And I learn so terribly much from each of these encounters.