People have told me that owning a dog is much like being a parent.

You provide them adequate food and shelter, you worry about their health and well-being, you photograph them in ridiculous hats.

It's what you do.

But I can't say that raising Sunny, my seven-pound mixed-breed pup, is preparing me for parenthood.

First off, dogs are independent. Even at a young age, they can fend for themselves. You can't exactly leave a five-month-old infant at home alone with a dish of water and a peanut butter biscuit.

Dogs don't need your attention every waking moment. They're perfectly content to lie at your feet and watch "Top Chef."

And they're relatively low maintenance. They don't need daily baths, they don't beg for the latest video games, they don't compare you to their friends' parents. They're not hogging the remote control, using up the minutes on your family plan or slamming the door in your face when you tell them they can't go out tonight because they're getting a D in chemistry.

But at the same time, I can't help but notice the similarities between the two.

This couldn't be more apparent than at the local dog park.

I take Sunny to a dog park in my neighborhood almost every evening. It's a great way for her — and me — to socialize, make new friends and, well, to learn to be a dog.

But I've noticed that some dog owners take their parental role to a new — and sometimes frightening — level.

Like some delusional parents, there are dog owners who are convinced their dogs are perfect, even after they tear apart the couch or attack another dog.

Or hyper-conscientious owners who use all-natural shampoos, pour chilled water into eco-friendly containers and shell out hundreds of dollars on organic food made with holistic ingredients and free-range beef.

Or over-indulgent owners who give their pooches dozens of toys and plates of table food. One overweight dachshund who frequents the dog park eats a slab of pork chop and a bowl of vanilla ice cream every night. Talk about spoiled!

Like parents, some owners are strict with their dogs; others more relaxed. Some operate on an unyielding schedule of walks, feeding, naps and exercise; others don't. Some are self-righteous, talking about how much better behaved their children are compared to others; others could care less.

I'd like to think that my dog-ownership skills aren't a reflection of what I'd be like as a parent.

With Sunny, I'm strict to a point. Sure, I stop her from gnawing my ballpoint pens and barking at the birds outside. But I don't try to control her at the dog park, where she operates under a new set of canine rules that I'm not privy to.

She's a dog. She barks. She pees. She eats dirt.

And at the same time, I can't help but be a little jealous at her unencumbered freedom. Sunny really knows how to live life. She closes her eyes when the wind blows as if taking in the feeling and saying to herself, "Life is good."

I may not let my daughter gobble mud or pee on the sidewalk. But I hope she enjoys life as much as Sunny does.

I mean, what more could a parent ask for?

Reach Catherine E. Toth at ctoth@honoluluadvertiser.com. Read her daily blog at blogs.honoluluadvertiser.com.