I Leave the TV On for My Dog Every Day—Here’s Why

Every weekday morning, my dog Cooper follows the same routine.

As soon as he notices me putting on my shoes and grabbing my car keys, he knows exactly what is about to happen. His ears droop a little. He follows me from room to room, hoping maybe this time I’ll stay home.

“Sorry, buddy,” I always tell him, scratching behind his ears. “I have to go to work. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Cooper never argues, of course. He just sits by the front door with those big brown eyes that somehow manage to make me feel guilty every single time.

A few years ago, I started doing something that many dog owners probably do without even thinking much about it. Before leaving the house, I turn on the television.

Not because Cooper watches the news.

Not because he’s interested in daytime talk shows.

I do it because I hate the thought of the house becoming completely silent the moment I leave.

One morning, my husband laughed when he saw me scrolling through channels before heading out.

“You know he probably doesn’t care what’s on TV, right?” he said.

“Maybe,” I replied. “But I feel better knowing there’s some noise in the house.”

That conversation stuck with me, and later I started paying more attention to how Cooper behaved when I left.

Dogs are incredibly social creatures. They learn our schedules, recognize our voices, and often know exactly when we’re about to leave long before we realize we’re giving off signals. For them, the sudden silence after a busy morning can feel very different from the lively atmosphere they experience when we’re home.

One afternoon, my neighbor Karen stopped by while I was gardening.

“I have to ask you something,” she said.

“What?”

“Do you really leave the TV on for Cooper every day?”

I laughed.

“Guilty.”

Karen smiled.

“I do the same thing for my Labrador. Sometimes I leave country music playing.”

“Does it help?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “But it makes me feel like he’s not sitting in total silence all day.”

And honestly, I understood exactly what she meant.

Over time, I learned that every dog is different. Some seem calmer with background sounds. Others couldn’t care less whether the house is silent or filled with noise. Some dogs enjoy soft music, while others appear perfectly content taking a six-hour nap no matter what’s happening around them.

But the truth is, leaving the television or radio on isn’t always about the dog.

Sometimes it’s about us.

It’s about the connection we feel with these animals who become such an important part of our lives.

When we’re sitting at work, stuck in traffic, or running errands, we think about them.

We wonder if they’re comfortable.

We wonder if they’re sleeping peacefully on the couch.

We wonder if they’re waiting by the window for our car to pull into the driveway.

One rainy afternoon last fall, I came home earlier than usual.

As I opened the front door, I could hear the television softly playing in the living room.

Cooper was stretched out on his favorite blanket, completely relaxed.

The moment he heard my voice, he jumped up and came running.

“There you are!” I laughed as his tail wagged so hard his whole body seemed to wiggle.

At that moment, I realized something.

Whether the television had helped him feel less alone or not almost didn’t matter.

What mattered was that every small thing we do for our dogs comes from the same place: love.

Love is buying the bed that’s probably nicer than your own.

Love is checking the weather before taking them for a walk.

Love is leaving a light on during a storm.

And sometimes, love looks like leaving the TV, radio, or a playlist of calming music on while you’re away, simply because you want your best friend to feel safe until you come home.

Because when a dog becomes family, you never really stop thinking about them—even when you’re miles away.