Dog Days

The dog walker smiled at me earlier this morning.

I think this is an unheralded sign of the Apocalypse.

______

I hope I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes when I say that dog walkers are dumb as foxes and, as a whole, a palpable sign of why the world hates us and wants us dead.

Dog walkers.

People hired specifically to walk your dog and make sure it has a constitutional; people who then, loaded baggy in hand, walk your dog back to your house and deposit your dog so it can go right back to eating your prized shantung drapes. Because, let us face it, you must have shantung drapes or an ancient manuscript or possibly an original Louis XIV chair if you can afford to have someone come up to your home two or three times PER DAY.

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Why do I hold such bad blood for dog walkers? I guess it’s not so much dog walkers as what they represent; however, there is this:

For starters, none of them are outwardly very nice; maybe they have a rich inner life and many friends and love to give dinner parties wherein they treat their guests to understated elegance, witty repartee and sparkling joviality, but they sure know how to keep that part of their personalities under wraps. There are about three dog walkers who I see around the neighborhood on a regular basis, and until today, October 11th, 2006, none of them had actually said hello back to me. Maybe they are all deaf and selectively blind?

Yesterday I saw a woman walking two dogs who could have been Bichon-Frises or Malteses or Pekingeses or whatever little foofy doggy breed looks like those little dogs did (I’m not too up on my little-dog breeds). So, making the error of thinking that the actual dog owner would be walking her dogs at 4 pm yesterday afternoon, I asked simply,

“What kinda dogs are those?”

She gave me a deer-in-headlights look and shook her head. “They’re not mine.”

She just sort of shuffled off and barely replied to our goodbyes (for once, Herr Meow was kind of trying to wave at the right time).

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Then there is the whole bit of having to hire someone to take care of a dog. I guess people have mixed views on this particular situation: after all, children have nannies so why shouldn’t dogs have walkers?

But I ask you: are dogs children?

I guess some people really feel they are and dote on their dogs. But you wouldn’t leave your child locked up all day in a small house and with no opportunity to play freely or run around and depend on a freakish and taciturn person to come around a couple of times and take the kid outside to go poop.

Right?

Please say you wouldn’t.
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The fact that there are people who live in lavish homes and can afford beautiful purebred dogs only to turn around and let them suffer cramped up all day in a home where they cannot be themselves or RUN or PLAY or POOP….

…THAT IS THE REASON THE WORLD HATES US, PEOPLE!

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This entry was published on October 11, 2006 at 1:08 pm and is filed under Soapboxing. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

One thought on “Dog Days

  1. Honey – if you had no one to talk to but Fido all day…you’d be in a perpetual bad mood too!!!

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