Sometimes I can see how we dog people can annoy non-dog people.

It's like non-parents dealing with friends who have kids. You can't chat for two seconds without being interrupted by screeching, and then the parents have to attend to the child's whims because, while age 3 is old enough to be enrolled in a curriculum of genius-grooming activities, it's not old enough to be taught the word "no." So you wait while flung toys are retrieved, fingers are extricated from teeth, favorite sippy cups are filled with juice. And your head aches in the knowledge that once your friends return, these creatures will be the only sanctioned topic of conversation.

That's probably what it's like for the friends of dog people.

We dog people skip out on trips, leave parties early, obsess, brag, fret and spoil shamelessly. We want to include the dog in everything, especially outdoors. The idea of going camping or hiking without the dog is simply painful for us.

This is tricky in slickrock country, where the best adventures are in narrow canyons.

You don't want to miss southern Utah. So you compromise. You skip the technical stuff and take extra measures to keep everyone moving forward.

Here are some things I learned this month in Wayne County with a 90-pound mastiff-lab mix named Rosie.

1 » Know your canyon

If there's chimney climbing within a half-mile, why bother? Learn how high you will have to hoist and lower the dog. How much water is there? I've seen dogs in Little Wild Horse Canyon, but I don't know how they got through the wet parts. Maybe you could put a little yippy dog in a carrier, but that seems kinda pointless.

2 » Use a good dog harness

If you have to hoist the dog to keep going past a sharp ledge, the harness helps a lot. Collars just don't cut it. Pet-lynching has never made for a fun vacation story.

3 » Keep your eyes peeled for alternate routes up and out

That goes for any slickrock canyon, where a quick shower can funnel into a raging deluge (DON'T GO if the weather is looking crappy anywhere nearby). But pooch-doable exits are way harder to find. Make a mental picture, cairn or map note if you spot one. It's also a plan B for quadruped-barring obstacles.

4 » Pack out the doodie

It doesn't have anywhere else to go.

5 » Leash up or bring climbing rope

Rosie is not a run-ahead dog. Or so I thought before she threw herself off a cliff.

There she was, tail wagging, in an 8-foot hole near the Dirty Devil River. My boyfriend got in and tried to push her out, but he kept sliding down the sandstone. Fortunately, he had clothesline in his emergency pack. It took three tries with various knots (and her leash) for me to pull her the last few feet.

Then the boyfriend was stuck.

After leash-and-clothesline "canyoneering," we're getting proper rope. And Rosie will be leashed anywhere we're unsure of the terrain.

Even very good dogs cannot be expected to understand this cardinal rule: Climb down only what you can climb back up.

6 » Make a separate trip without the dogs

It doesn't make you a hater. You wouldn't take Fido to the opera either.

Erin Alberty has more Utah adventures and musings on her blog, poorpenmanship.com.