Stop what you’re doing, there’s a Tinder app for Dogs

Why waste your time on humans?

Like a lot of twenty-somethings, I’m ludicrously unsuccessful with the opposite sex.

The only male present at my birthday brunch was a gigantic teddy bear, and I’ve not needed to use contraception since I realised that telling potential suitors that I’m a law student was enough to keep up my perpetual dry spell.

I’ve given Tinder a go, but even after wearing my fingertips down to the bone from aggressively right-swiping, the only thing emptier than my bed is the wine bottle next to it.

Un-bear-ably single

After another night of solitary drinking to numb the agony of being emotionally spitroasted by loneliness and pent up sexual frustration, I decided that enough was enough. I took the plunge, and signed up to Borrow my Doggy, a nifty little app that connects you with hundreds of potential canine suitors without even having to leave the sorrow pit that you call your bedroom.

I soon discovered that this app was like Tinder on steroids. Instead of having to wade your way through double chins and terrible pick up lines, every single photo on there was enough to elicit an excited screech from even the coldest of humans.

The best part? Without the need to wait an excruciatingly long time to match with your chosen new pal, you can be sliding your way into hundreds of inboxes without any fear of looking predatory.

Not a munter in sight

Of course, with all great things, there’s a potential to be so overwhelmed by your excitement that you throw all decency to the curb and express your eagerness far too early.

One thing you’ll learn quickly on this app is that there’s a delicate balance to keep – you want to seem fun-loving enough to give their dog a great time, but still grounded so they’re confident you won’t be leading their beloved pet into trouble.

Unfortunately, my first few wooing attempts weren’t so skillful. Intoxicated with the feverish anticipation of multiple opportunities to play fetch, I sent out overly-keen messages that were as likely to be successful with the owners as the ‘boobz wow’ messages on Tinder were with me.

Being ghosted by anyone is tough, but being ghosted by an oversized Alaskan malamute with the most snuggable fluff ever? Absolutely savage.


After realising that coming across as the dog equivalent of the creepy child snatcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang wasn’t the approach to go for, I focussed on getting my profile up to scratch. Unlike Tinder, which only requires a simple combination of full body shots and revealing selfies to hook in horny men, for Borrow my Doggy you’ve got to find Mother Earth style photos of yourself with more doting animals than even a Disney Princess could muster up.

As for your bio, you’ve got to prove you’ve had loads of animal experience, and that law degree that made your sex life so stale now acts as shining evidence that you’re intelligent and responsible enough to not get a dog killed.

Not only was I discovering that my boring degree actually got me somewhere with this version of Tinder, but I was soon to discover that this is a world where late night booty calls are actually totally valid and acceptable.

In the past, whenever I’ve brazenly sent a guy a 2am message in the hope of ‘getting to know each other’ a bit better, I’ve been met with deafening silence. Yet my late night adoration on Borrow my Doggy has resulted in gaining a new best friend in the form of Wilf, a beautiful white lab.

Far fewer winky faces than my usual late night texts

Getting ready for a first date with a dog is a bizarre experience.

Although there was no frantic shaving, last minute flicks through Cosmo sex tips, or nerves about their kissing technique; some of the usual pressures of actual dating were still there.

I found myself weirdly invested in looking as nice as possible for a dog, not being satisfied with my look until I had garnered some likes on Instagram.

Social media helped to alleviate my first date fears

Fortunately, my fears were set aside the minute I met Wilf.

There was no awkward chit-chat, no annoying habits, and unlike on my real dates, the suggestion of involving leashes and collars so early on wasn’t a sign that I was in desperate need of some Freudian analysis.

There’s also less stigma to publicly walking a dog than there is to publicly being part of a couple. Whilst outwardly affectionate couples are met with glares from bitter singletons like myself, I’ve found that walking my dog date has opened a door to this elite club of dog owners, where I can stop and chat with strangers over the adorable way our dogs’ fur so adorably matches.

The only acceptable time that a duo can use the dog filter

After our successful second date, Wilf’s owner has granted me the privilege of being able to walk him whenever I want.

Being able to spend time with a cute dog whenever I want, whilst avoiding all of the emotional and physical tolls of human dating, is far better than anything I’ve ever been offered through Tinder. True, eventually the time will come that I’m overwhelmed with cravings for human interaction, and I’ll be dreaming of a different type of doggy.

At least when that time does come, I’ll have the added bonus of being able to offer potential dates endless snuggles with a keen labrador, and everyone knows nobody can resist the allure of cute dogs. Thanks, Borrow my Doggy.

Snuggles with bae