I love my dog, but he continues to confound me. Every dog that I have had before him would insistently clamor for a morning walk and breakfast and expectantly wait for supper.

Not our Jay.

He’s simply not a morning dog and lets us know — if we are paying attention — that he is ready to go outside and do his business by throwing himself on the ground and loudly wriggling around. If that doesn’t get our attention, he comes upstairs and looks at me or my husband meaningfully. Similarly, when he is ready for a meal and one is not forthcoming, he licks his empty bowl until we get the idea.

There are no set behaviors or timetables with him. Food can remain untouched in his bowl for hours or be hoovered up immediately. Sometimes he’s in the mood for a long walk, but other times he will simply turn around mid-walk and head home. Again, unlike any other dog I’ve had.

Growing up, I used to frequently go on runs with our family dog, forging ahead even in inclement weather. (Sorry, Zeke!) Jay, whom we suspect to be part whippet, can really race down the street or the length of the local dog park when he wants to. But he simply cannot be cajoled into a sustained run around the neighborhood or a trail. Believe me, I’ve tried.

The biggest adjustment for me came early in our relationship: The rescue organization warned us that Jay prefers men over women, and that has definitely been the case in our house the past two years. I was the one that campaigned for another dog for years, but Jay prefers my husband.

My ego can mostly handle it, but there are times, like during my husband’s recent absence on a business trip, when I find myself again resorting to treat bribery to get Jay out of the door for a walk. (Jay logic: if I leave the house, I might miss the return of my preferred human.)

He’s also the sniffiest dog I’ve ever had, which can be vexing if I’m in a rush. But I counsel myself to be patient, and maybe even take a lesson from him: It’s okay to stop and sniff ALL the roses if you want to. Work can (usually) wait.