Living Norwegianly | Paw-Ventures: Dog Culture in Norway Vs UK

Last weekend was a big one—Woolfie's first birthday and our 10-month milestone together (I brought her home last October 19th)! Naturally, we celebrated with a birthday tea party, complete with gold party hats!

Back home, my mum and her countryside dog-loving friends regularly throw charming tea parties for their pups. Dogs happily munch on their bones while their hoomans sip hot tea and enjoy homemade cake, all against the backdrop of a cricket green or the seaside.

It’s a quintessentially British scene, and it got me thinking about the contrast between dog culture in the UK and what I’ve come to know here in Norway…

In the UK, dogs are pampered like little royalty, enjoying puppycinos, gourmet sausages, and doggy ice cream at every cafe. Off-leash all year round, they're often seen as fashionable companions, strutting alongside the "green wellie brigade” or “Sloane Rangers"—Labrador in tow, Barbour jacket on, flat cap perched just so and a 4x4 Defender or Range Rover waiting nearby. These dogs are more about indoor snuggles than outdoor thrills,, content to chase squirrels in the local park and snooze by the pub fire rather than hunt on the moor.

But in Norway? Well, here it's a different ball game—literally. Norwegian dogs are adventurers, bred for the rugged outdoors. They’re more likely to be found scaling mountains or pulling sleds than lounging in a pub. The Norwegian pup isn’t just a fashionable companion, it has more purpose; whether it’s hunting, search and rescue, sledding, a teammate on cross-country ski trips, rando tours, cabin-to-cabin hikes, or keeping pace on those epic Norwegian trails.

Every winter season in ski towns near Oslo or Bergen, city folk descend with their Gordon or English setters, perfectly finishing off their Amundsen outfits with knickerbockers, ready for a weekend of skiing (and a bit of après) while their Teslas quietly charge by the cabin! 

When I brought Woolfie home last October, I was in a really dark place, struggling with PMDD. I remember crying to my mum on the phone, asking, “Don’t I deserve to be happy too?” My parents insisted that getting a puppy would be a huge mistake, and a few friends agreed. But deep down, I knew Woolfie would bring me the happiness I so desperately needed and deserved.

This wasn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision, either. 

I’ve dreamed of having my own husky since I can remember (thanks to the Disney film Balto—anyone else?), and I’ve been working toward this for years.

Then, one day, I visited my new neighbour, a retired competitive dog sledder, who just happened to have one puppy left. I met the mother, a sweet dog, and the father, who was wonderful. I knew Woolfie would have great qualities. Even though she didn’t look as much like a husky as I’d dreamed of, it felt like she was meant to be mine.

Originally, I thought I’d get a boy dog and name him Balto, but Woolfie came to me in a dream, told me her name. And so, she became my ride or die.

Over the past 10 months, Woolfie has been my constant companion through hellish PMDD  (and I’ve been bedridden with chronic fatigue syndrome, so that’s saying something). She’s been there to pull me out of the house when I didn’t want to go, giving me warmth, love, and comfort when I needed it most, and made me smile in the depths of depression. She gave me a reason to keep going. Inside, she’s super chill, but outside, she’s always up for an adventure. She just goes with the flow, and is always happy.

Yet, even through the gates of hell, we've glimpsed slices of heaven. To embrace the light, one must journey through the shadows. Life is a dance of duality, where darkness and light intertwine.

Together, we’ve been camping on mountain tops, watched the snow turn purple and the sky pink, gazed at shooting stars by the warmth of a bonfire, embarked on solo off-piste ski adventures, partied at a rock festival, hiked cabin to cabin in Jotunheimen with friends, and so much more. A lot of the solo adventures we’ve embarked on, I’d never have done without her. 

She does have a hooligan side, though. During spring skiing with friends, Woolfie decided to show it off spectacularly. Adventure Man has a super cool Samoyed who charges through the snow in a well-behaved, joyful manner, and I naturally thought Woolfie would do the same.

Nope. Not with lots of people. Way toooo exciting!

I’ve never been more stressed than when we were at the top of Storebjørn in Jotunheimen. Woolfie’s like a magpie, chasing after the fastest skiers—and yes, she can keep up even if you’re speeding full tilt down the mountain.

Thankfully, she mostly followed us down, with my friend jovially apologizing to everyone she crossed paths with (lucky for us, Norwegians love dogs in the mountains and just laughed it off).

At one point she tired herself out, and I had to ski while carrying her (I’m still waiting on that adorable photo from Non-Veggie Man!).

Now, we’re planning a road trip north while we’re in between places, and I can’t wait. Traveling with her just makes every adventure more special! A friend just sent me some fun route tips to get us to the start, so that’s the plan for now—the rest is a mystery!

One of my clients recently said, “What you’ve come through is like a miracle in itself.” And honestly, getting my health to this point does feel miraculous. In many ways, I knew it was possible, but at times, it really didn’t feel like it. I’m not 100% healed, but I’m well enough to go on this trip. The rest will come in time.

Here’s to Woolfie and all your wonderful dogs, making life special 🐾