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If you grew up with a dog in the 1970s or 1980s, chances are your childhood with dogs looked very different from the way many dogs live today.
There were no GPS collars telling our parents where the dog had gone.
There weren’t pet cameras allowing us to check on him from the grocery store.
Most of our dogs didn’t have overflowing baskets of expensive toys, personalized beds, or monthly boxes of treats arriving at the front door.
And somehow, they seemed pretty happy.
Our dogs were simply part of everyday life.
They followed us outside. They rode in the family car. They waited for us to come home from school. They slept wherever they found a comfortable spot.
And some of the things we routinely did with them would probably make today’s kids—and maybe a few parents—wonder how any of us survived.
Here are 15 things about growing up with dogs in the ’70s and ’80s that might bring back a few memories.

There were no phones in our pockets.
Nobody could text us.
We went outside after breakfast or lunch with the dog following behind us and sometimes didn’t come back until somebody yelled our name from the porch.
We explored the neighborhood, played in the yard, wandered through the woods, rode bikes and invented games as we went.
And the dog?
The dog was usually right there in the middle of everything.

Dog car seats weren’t exactly common equipment in the family station wagon.
The dog climbed in with everybody else.
Maybe he sat beside you.
Maybe he stretched across someone’s lap.
Maybe he stood with his nose near an open window enjoying every smell that passed by.
Long before dogs had special travel accessories, they were already enthusiastic road-trip companions.

Sometimes you knew the neighborhood dogs almost as well as you knew the neighborhood kids.
A familiar dog might wander into the yard while you were playing.
Nobody immediately panicked.
“Oh, that’s Rusty. He lives down the street.”
Rusty would hang around for a while, investigate what everyone was doing, and eventually wander home.
It was a very different time.

You had a sandwich.
Your dog had those eyes.
The outcome was fairly predictable.
A piece of crust disappeared beneath the table.
Maybe half a cracker accidentally fell beside your chair.
And at dinner, dogs quickly learned which child was the easiest target.
Today we know much more about foods dogs shouldn’t eat, which is certainly a good thing.
But back then, slipping the dog a bite of whatever you had seemed like part of childhood.

On a hot summer afternoon, somebody turned on the hose.
Kids drank from it.
The dog drank from it.
Then somebody started spraying everybody with it.
Five minutes later, the yard contained several soaking-wet children and one extremely excited dog.
Nobody needed a water bottle with a built-in bowl.
We had the hose.

There was something wonderful about turning the corner after school and knowing who might be waiting.
Maybe your dog was watching through the screen door.
Maybe you heard barking before you even reached the house.
Sometimes the dog met you in the yard, tail going like crazy.
School might have been wonderful.
It might have been terrible.
Your dog didn’t care.
You were home.
That was the important part.

Helmets weren’t nearly as common.
Neither were fancy hands-free dog leashes.
You got on your bike and took off.
If the family dog came along, he ran beside you or followed the group.
You might ride to a friend’s house, down a dirt road or around the neighborhood until somebody’s mother decided it was time to come home.
For many kids, the dog was simply another member of the gang.

Some dogs had a ball.
Maybe a rubber bone.
Possibly an old stuffed animal that somehow became theirs.
And then there was the greatest dog toy ever invented:
a stick.
Dogs didn’t seem concerned that their toys weren’t coordinated with the living room décor.
They weren’t waiting for the next delivery.
Give them an old tennis ball and somebody willing to throw it, and life was pretty good.

Camping trip?
The dog came.
Trip to the lake?
Make room for the dog.
Visiting relatives for the afternoon?
Depending on the family, the dog might be coming too.
There weren’t always elaborate plans for traveling with pets.
You packed the cooler, loaded the kids, found room for the dog and headed out.
The dog was simply part of the family.

Today’s dogs can have orthopedic mattresses, cooling beds, heated beds and memory-foam pillows.
Our childhood dogs?
They found a spot.
Maybe it was the rug beside the couch.
Maybe it was your bed.
Maybe it was an old blanket folded in the corner.
And sometimes it was directly in the middle of the hallway where everyone had to step over them.
Apparently that was the premium location.

This one is strange to think about now.
Our dogs did thousands of funny, ridiculous and adorable things that were never photographed.
There was no phone sitting beside us.
Nobody recorded the dog chasing his tail and uploaded it 30 seconds later.
If somebody happened to have a camera nearby, you might get a picture.
Otherwise, the moment simply became a memory.
Maybe that’s why some of those memories still feel so special.

Even though we didn’t photograph everything, somehow the dog still ended up in plenty of family pictures.
Christmas morning.
Kids sitting on the front steps.
A backyard birthday party.
Vacation photos.
Someone standing proudly beside their first car.
And somewhere in the picture, there was often a dog.
Sometimes looking at the camera.
Usually not.

Some things haven’t changed at all.
Kids told dogs secrets.
We complained about school.
We talked about friends.
We told them when someone hurt our feelings.
The dog never repeated anything.
Never laughed.
Never told us we were being silly.
They simply stayed beside us.
Long before we understood words like companionship or emotional support, many of us already knew exactly what it felt like.

Nobody said:
“I’m going to spend quality time with the dog now.”
You just did.
The dog was there while you watched television.
The dog followed you outside.
The dog sat beside you while you ate a popsicle on the porch.
The dog was nearby while you did homework at the kitchen table.
They weren’t something we scheduled into our day.
They were woven into it.

We didn’t think about it then.
When you’re a kid, you assume the things you love will always be there.
You don’t realize that decades later you’ll still remember the sound of a particular bark.
Or the spot where your dog slept.
Or the way their ears felt.
You might remember riding in the back seat with them.
Walking home from school and seeing them waiting.
Sitting together outside on a summer evening when you had absolutely nowhere else you needed to be.
The dog you grew up with may have been gone for many years.
But somehow, they’re still part of your childhood.

Were the 1970s and 1980s perfect?
Of course not.
We know more about dog nutrition, veterinary medicine, training and safety today, and many of those changes have made dogs’ lives considerably better.
But there was something wonderfully uncomplicated about growing up with a dog back then.
We didn’t have apps to track them.
We didn’t have cameras watching them.
We didn’t have thousands of dog products to choose from.
Mostly, we just had time together.
Summer afternoons that seemed endless.
Car rides with the windows down.
Walks that didn’t have a destination.
A dog sleeping beside us while we watched television.
And that familiar tail wagging when we came through the door.
Maybe that’s what we remember most.
Not the decade.
Not the old cars or clothes or houses.
Just the feeling of being a kid with a dog beside you and believing, for a little while, that both of you had all the time in the world.