Things My Dog Has Taught Me About Good Web Design

Listen, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m borderline obsessed with my dog, Finn. Okay, maybe borderline isn’t really the right word, but you get the picture.

He comes with me on every errand, sits in on project meetings, and has been by my side day in and day out watching me work for years now. And weirdly enough, watching how he operates has taught me some legit lessons about what makes websites actually work.

I promise this won’t be a blog post all about Finn. By the end of this, you’ll see why paying attention to a shepherd/husky blend who’s mostly chill (except when FedEx or UPS are near) has helped me be better at crafting websites.

Finn can decide whether he likes someone the literal second they walk through the door. Hell, who am I kidding? He makes that call watching people and their canine companions walking down the street. There’s no grace period, no “let me get to know you first.” It’s instant.

Your website works exactly the same way.

People land on your homepage and quickly decide whether you’re legit, whether you can help them, and whether they want to stick around. We’re talking 3-5 seconds here. That’s it.

This is why your hero section matters so much. If someone can’t immediately tell what you do and whether you’ll help them, they’re gone. Load speed matters. Visual clarity matters. A headline that actually says something matters.

Finn has a routine, and if you mess with it, he’ll harass you until you cave. Breakfast by 5am. Snack at 10. Walk at noon. Snack at 3. Dinner at 5:30pm. If any of these things happen even 15 minutes off schedule, he’ll let you know he’s not happy.

Here’s the thing… that consistency means he knows what to expect. It makes him feel secure.

Your website visitors are the same way.

Consistent design, consistent fonts, consistent messaging and tone. All of that builds trust because people know what to expect. Without that consistency, people get confused. And confused people leave.

Finn has very specific sounds for different situations. There’s the bark for when another dog walks by. The whine when he sees his Nana’s car pull up. The whining bark combo when his bestie gets home from work. The full-volume alert bark for the FedEx guy.

They’re all different sounds, but I know exactly what’s happening every single time just by hearing which one it is.

Your website needs to be just as clear about what you want people to do.

“Learn more”, “Get started”, or “Click here”? Tells me nothing and does nothing to make me want to click that link. Where am I going? What will I do once I get there? But “Schedule your free consultation”, “Download the pricing guide”, or “See our portfolio”? Now we’re talking. I know exactly what’s going to happen when I click that button.

Here’s something I think we can all learn from Finn: he knows when to just chill.

A lot of websites could learn from this.

Pop-ups the second someone lands on your site. Auto-playing videos. Scrolling text. Animations everywhere. Chat widgets that open automatically.

It’s exhausting. Sometimes your website just needs to get out of its own way and let people actually read your content or look at your work.

White space isn’t wasted space. It gives your content room to breathe so your visitors aren’t overwhelmed. Simple navigation isn’t boring. It’s respectful of people’s time. Not everything needs to move or blink or demand attention.

Finn somehow knows who the dog people are before they say or do anything. I’ve stopped trying to figure out how he knows. He just does.

Your website should work the same way. Not in a creepy psychic sense, but in the “speaking directly to your people” sense.

When you try to appeal to everyone, you end up appealing to no one. But when you write like you’re talking to the specific people you actually want to work with? When you use the words they use and address the problems they actually have? The right people find you. And they know immediately that you get them.

This is why I spend so much time understanding our clients’ industries before we design anything. It’s not about making the site look pretty. It’s about making it speak to the right people in a way that guides them exactly where they need to go and makes them think “yes, this, exactly this.”

Yes, I realize comparing website design to a day in the life of my dog is a little silly.

But these lessons actually hold up when you think about what makes websites work: fast first impressions, consistency that builds trust, clear communication, knowing when to shut up and let your content shine, and speaking directly to your people instead of trying to please everyone.

Got questions about making your website work better? Drop me a line. I promise I won’t judge your site (but Finn might).