What do you get when you stitch a dog’s head to a police officer’s body, add a villainous cat with a clone problem, and wrap it all in an intentionally absurd children’s cartoon? Apparently… you get Dog Man. And despite what we expected going in, this movie managed to pull off something truly special.
Eve and I sat down to talk about Dog Man after one of our listeners, Warren, recommended it—and honestly, we weren’t prepared for just how deep this lighthearted film based on the graphic novels by Dav Pilkey would go. Sure, it’s silly. It’s really silly. But beneath the surface-level chaos is a story that invites kids (and their parents!) to consider big questions: What does it mean to love someone who’s hard to love? Can someone with a broken past still change? And why do all the cats have to be evil, anyway?
From laugh-out-loud moments to heart-string-tugging surprises, we unpack it all. So grab your favorite sidekick—canine, feline, or otherwise—and let’s dive into the first impressions of Dog Man.
First Impressions
We went into Dog Man with a mix of curiosity and cautious optimism. I mean, we’re talking about a stitched-together canine cop based on a graphic novel for kids—it’s not exactly the kind of film I’d normally seek out. But when a listener recommends something with solid themes, especially for younger audiences, I figure it’s worth a shot. And you know what? I’m glad I watched it.
Eve came in almost completely blind—she’d seen a trailer, but that was it. She admitted right up front that this wasn’t the sort of thing she’d spend money on at the theater, but she was pleasantly surprised by how much the movie offered, not just for kids but for the adults who inevitably get dragged along. The music (composed by Tom Howe) added to the Saturday-morning-cartoon vibe, and there’s this wonderfully self-aware layer of humor baked in—like how the evil plot begins in something literally labeled the “abandoned expendable warehouse.” That kind of tongue-in-cheek naming goes right over kids’ heads but made us both chuckle.
One of the things Eve noticed was the wide appeal of the film across age groups. She wasn’t the only adult in the theater—there were families and even a whole gaggle of loud teenage boys who ended up really getting into it. During a musical number near the end, when the dog starts howling, those boys were howling right along. It was kind of adorable, honestly. And encouraging, too. Of all the things teenagers could be watching, they picked a film that promotes kindness, friendship, and even self-sacrifice.
As for me, I’d read a chunk of a Dog Man book with my grandkids last summer, so I had a little context going in—but the movie takes the wild energy of the books and amplifies it with even more goofiness. And I don’t just mean cartoon silliness—I’m talking full-on, leave-your-sense-of-reality-at-the-door madness. We’re talking a dog’s head stitched onto a man’s body (with visible stitches, mind you), a villainous cat who clones himself but ends up with a cheerful kitten, and jail breaks that are played like a Saturday morning montage. And yet, somehow, it works.
My grandson William is a massive Dog Man fan—he even dressed up as the character for book day at school. After watching the movie, I talked with him and his sister Sophia to get their take. With a little help from their mom, they sent over the cutest mini-reviews. William, ever the reader, was thrilled to see that the movie blended stories from three different books. He especially loved when Flippy’s heart was touched. Sophia, on the other hand, just liked that “they were in love with each other.” Simple and sweet.
The beauty of Dog Man is that it really does have something for everyone. There are silly gags and cartoon violence for the kids, deeper messages woven in for the grownups, and just enough absurdity to keep everyone entertained. So if you’ve got little ones—or even if you don’t—you might be surprised by how much fun you’ll have with this one.
Love Is a Verb
We’ve watched a lot of movies over the years for this podcast, and sometimes the themes are subtle or buried beneath layers of storytelling that require a pickaxe to unearth. Not so with Dog Man. The movie is as direct as it gets—its central theme is laid out in a song that plays as the credits roll: “Love is a Verb.” And that’s not just a cute lyric. It’s a whole worldview boiled down into a few simple words, and the film lives it out through the actions of its characters.
It’s Li’l Petey who gives voice to this truth when he says, “Love isn’t something you feel—it’s something you do.” That’s a big statement for a little kitten in a comedy film with a stitched-together dog cop as the main character. But it hits surprisingly hard. Throughout the movie, love is shown not through flowery words or fuzzy feelings, but through choices, sacrifice, and doing what’s right even when it’s hard.
The most obvious example is Li’l Petey’s love for his “father,” Petey—the villain of the piece. Petey starts the movie trying to destroy Dog Man, cloning himself in hopes of creating a like-minded evil genius. But instead of a nefarious twin, he ends up with an adorably optimistic kitten who refuses to follow in his paw prints. Petey wants nothing to do with him. He even tries to undo the clone! But Li’l Petey is relentless—in a good way. He keeps loving Petey, despite rejection, abandonment, and danger.
This is where the Bible shines a spotlight. Love, according to Scripture, has never been just a feeling. The Apostle Paul famously wrote:
Love is patient, love is kind. Love does not envy, is not boastful, is not arrogant, is not rude, is not self-seeking, is not irritable, and does not keep a record of wrongs. Love finds no joy in unrighteousness but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Corinthians 13:4–7)
Every one of those characteristics? Actions. Choices. Ways we behave toward others, not just things we feel in our hearts. And in the case of Dog Man, we see a cartoon kitten live it out. He forgives Petey, he believes in Flippy when no one else does, and he keeps reaching out even when people let him down.
Jesus Himself laid it out plainly during the Sermon on the Mount:
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. For He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward will you have? Don’t even the tax collectors do the same?” (Matthew 5:43–46)
We couldn’t help but notice how that plays out in this story. Petey isn’t exactly a warm fuzzy character. He’s bitter, mean-spirited, and more than a little self-absorbed. But Li’l Petey doesn’t treat him like an enemy. He shows him grace, time and again. And that grace? It starts to work. Slowly, Petey begins to change—not because someone yelled at him or punished him into behaving, but because someone loved him with an unrelenting love.
And that’s something kids—and let’s be honest, adults too—desperately need to see.
The world we live in today has cheapened the idea of love. It’s become a feeling that comes and goes, something we fall in and out of. We hear things like “follow your heart” or “love is love” tossed around without any real definition or grounding. But love that can vanish when it gets difficult isn’t love at all. Real love persists. It chooses the good of another. It sacrifices.
A new command I give you: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you are also to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 13:34–35)
Jesus said this just before going to the cross. His example of love was one of sacrifice and service, not sentimentality. And we are commanded—yes, commanded—to love the same way.
The thing that really stood out to us in Dog Man was how that message was communicated clearly, without being preachy. It wasn’t a lecture. It was a story. And kids watching this movie will walk away with an example of what it looks like to love someone who’s hard to love.
We also couldn’t help but be reminded of what James says about faith and action:
But someone will say, “You have faith, and I have works.” Show me your faith without works, and I will show you faith by my works. You believe that God is one. Good! Even the demons believe—and they shudder. Senseless person! Are you willing to learn that faith without works is useless? (James 2:18–20)
Just like faith without action is empty, love without action is meaningless. That’s why Li’l Petey’s kindness has such an impact—because he does something. And so does Dog Man, when he sacrifices his beloved ball to save Petey. And so does Flippy, who learns how to be a friend after receiving unconditional care.
In a culture that confuses love with fleeting emotion, it’s refreshing to see a kids’ movie—of all things!—take a strong stand on the idea that love is something you do.
And here’s the kicker: when characters act in love, they’re all transformed. Petey softens. Flippy finds friendship. Dog Man is honored. And Li’l Petey? He remains the heart of it all, shining brightly in a world that can be pretty dim at times.
Nature vs. Nurture
If there’s a theme in Dog Man that sneaks in under the radar but still hits with some weight, it’s the age-old debate of nature versus nurture. And honestly, we were surprised by how well it was handled for a movie that’s otherwise filled with fart jokes and talking fish. When you look past the zany visuals and nonstop slapstick, what you find in the story of Petey and Li’l Petey is a genuine reflection on the question: What shapes who we become?
Li’l Petey is a clone of Petey. Genetically, they’re identical. And yet, from the moment he steps out of that cloning chamber, Li’l Petey is nothing like the grumpy, self-centered cat who created him. Where Petey is jaded and angry at the world, Li’l Petey is open-hearted, optimistic, and eager to love and be loved. He doesn’t have an ounce of guile in him.
So how does a clone come out with a completely different personality?
The movie doesn’t offer a scientific answer (thankfully—it would’ve felt out of place), but it does give us a clear emotional and moral one. Petey is the product of a painful past. We find out later in the movie that he was abandoned by his father as a kitten. Not only did his dad walk out, he took everything with him. That kind of betrayal can leave lasting scars. It helps explain Petey’s bitterness and why he leans so heavily into being “evil”—he was shaped by loneliness, loss, and rejection.
In contrast, Li’l Petey—though initially rejected by his creator—is immediately embraced by Dog Man and then by others. He’s nurtured. Loved. Encouraged. And that makes all the difference.
It’s hard not to connect this to biblical ideas about how environment, love, and discipline shape a person. Proverbs tells us:
Start a youth out on his way; even when he grows old he will not depart from it. (Proverbs 22:6)
Li’l Petey’s journey shows the power of being raised with love and truth—even when it’s unexpected or initially uninvited. And it also reminds us that wounds left unhealed, like those in Petey’s heart, can lead to cycles of brokenness if not confronted with grace.
At one point, Petey practically begs Li’l Petey to be evil—to follow in his paw prints. But Li’l Petey refuses. Not out of rebellion, but because it simply isn’t who he is. That refusal, rooted in love and joy, chips away at Petey’s hard heart. And isn’t that so often the case? Bitterness begins to break down when it’s met with something radically different—unrelenting goodness.
Petey may be the product of bad parenting, but Li’l Petey proves that with the right nurture—even in a broken world—hope can take root and grow.
Eve discussed an interesting blog post about the four types of nurture represented in the Bible.
Childlike Wonder
One of the unexpected joys of watching Dog Man was being reminded of just how important childlike wonder is—not just for kids, but for adults too. This movie doesn’t try to be cool, edgy, or hyper-intellectual. It leans full tilt into its silliness. And somehow, that’s where the real beauty sneaks in.
Everything from the exaggerated animation to the absurd plot twists is designed to appeal to the youngest members of the audience. And yet, it managed to pull us in, too. Why? Because it taps into that part of us that still remembers what it’s like to see the world through wide, hopeful eyes. A world where dogs can become police officers, villains can be redeemed, and love really does save the day.
The joy on the faces of the kids in the theater—especially Eve’s rowdy group of teenage boys howling along with Dog Man—was a vivid reminder that wonder still matters. And it’s contagious. It’s easy to become jaded with age. We start asking practical questions and poking holes in things that were never meant to be airtight in the first place. But Dog Man dares us to stop analyzing and just play along. And that’s a gift.
Jesus had a lot to say about childlike faith. In fact, He made it a requirement for kingdom citizenship:
“Truly I tell you,” he said, “unless you turn and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)
That’s not a call to immaturity or naïveté—it’s a challenge to recapture humility, trust, obedience, and innocence.
As obedient children, do not be conformed to the desires of your former ignorance. (1 Peter 1:14)
We see this in Li’l Petey. He doesn’t cling to cynicism or fall back into old habits—because he never had them. He operates with simple, active obedience to what he believes is right. No manipulation. No ego. Just doing good, because good needs to be done.
He also models the kind of humility Jesus praised:
An argument started among them about who was the greatest of them. But Jesus, knowing their inner thoughts, took a little child and had him stand next to him. He told them, “Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me. And whoever welcomes me welcomes him who sent me. For whoever is least among you—this one is great.” (Luke 9:46–48)
Li’l Petey never acts like he’s the smartest or the most important. He sees the best in others and welcomes them with open arms—even villains like Flippy or emotionally distant characters like Petey. He becomes great by being least.
And then there’s innocence. One of the most moving moments in the Gospels is when Jesus insists that the kingdom of God belongs to those who receive it like a child:
People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw it, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me. Don’t stop them, because the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” (Mark 10:13–15)
That pure, unquestioning reception—that’s what Li’l Petey embodies. He accepts people at face value. He extends trust freely. He walks through life with open hands instead of clenched fists.
But childlike doesn’t mean childish. And scripture makes that distinction crystal clear:
Then we will no longer be little children, tossed by the waves and blown around by every wind of teaching, by human cunning with cleverness in the techniques of deceit. (Ephesians 4:14)
There’s a difference between innocent faith and immature gullibility. And Dog Man shows that too—Li’l Petey doesn’t blindly follow Petey’s demands to “be evil.” He’s not swayed by manipulation. He knows who he is, and he stands firm. That’s maturity wrapped in innocence.
So yes, Dog Man is silly. But maybe that’s exactly what we needed. A reminder to laugh. A nudge toward hope. And a gentle challenge to see the world—and others—with fresh eyes.
Conclusion
We began this episode expecting silliness—and Dog Man absolutely delivered on that front. But it also gave us an unexpected treasure chest of truth. We saw how love must be active to be real. We watched how nurture and grace can overcome pain and bitterness. And we were reminded of the beauty, humility, and strength that come with childlike wonder.
In the end, this isn’t just a funny movie for kids. It’s a call to live with love, patience, and forgiveness—qualities that come not from age, but from hearts shaped by Christ.
And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love—but the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13)
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