Your dog turns his nose up at chicken pâté, sniffs your broccoli with curiosity, and now looks at the neighbourhood squirrels as comrades rather than prey. You thought you'd adopted a little domestic predator; you're now living with an activist who seems moments away from organising a march for sardine liberation. It might be time to accept the obvious: your dog is vegan.

The 5 signs your dog is vegan

1. He refuses his soft toy out of respect for the animal

He used to tear it apart with enthusiasm. Today, he looks at it sadly, as a symbol of the systemic violence inflicted on small mammals. You tried throwing it for him to play. He sighed.

2. He reads his kibble labels like a health inspector

Chicken? No. Beef? Even worse. Animal by-products? Fascism. Your dog now spends more time analysing the ingredients on his tins than actually eating them, with the disgusted look of a food influencer discovering a mass produced sausage.

3. He tries to convert the other neighbourhood dogs

Yours is no longer content just avoiding meat himself. He guilt trips the neighbour's dog too, shows him documentaries about slaughterhouses, and explains between barks that chasing a sparrow means actively taking part in a chain of oppression. The other dog understands none of it, but is starting to get scared.

4. He's suddenly far too interested in turmeric

Your dog no longer talks about digestion, his coat or his bowel movements. He talks about inflammation, gut microbiome and the antioxidant properties of gentle spices. Last week, you caught him sniffing oat milk with the seriousness of a naturopath on MDMA.

5. He looks at pigeons with tenderness

He used to spend his days staring at them like a serial killer behind a window. Today, he almost coos back at them. You even caught him sharing a moment of silence with a one eyed pigeon on the windowsill. It's over. You've lost the dog.

How to react to a vegan dog

Remind him of his true nature

Pour a little sardine juice over his kibble. Not to manipulate him. Just to wake up, somewhere beneath the speeches about animal ethics, the tiny psychopath with a wet nose still slumbering inside him.

Let him talk, but eat your steak in peace

When he explains cattle farming conditions to you, nod gravely. Even pretend to think it over. Then quietly close the kitchen door and finish your steak away from his accusing stare.

Confront him with reality

Introduce him to a proper street dog for the day: a huge, one eyed, violent stray who's already eaten a live sparrow without a single thought for the operation's carbon footprint. Either he comes to his senses. Or he starts a petition.

Conclusion

Today, he refuses chicken, defends pigeons and probably wants an eco friendly recycled fibre basket. Tomorrow, he'll demand silky tofu, a hemp blanket and a ban on wool cushions "on principle". The hardest part, in the end, isn't living with a vegan dog. It's watching him willingly give up everything that made him such a wonderfully awful little monster. What To Do If My Dog Is Labour? and its sequels will introduce you to other equally unlivable dogs, between militant, bourgeois, regionalist, conspiracy theorist dogs, or simply unbearable ones with a tote bag.