November 29, 2006

• CAUTION: DOGS AND OVER-USE OF HYPHENS AHEAD.

  My friend likes dogs.  In theory.  He likes the Frisbee-catching, tennis-ball-chasing and bandana-wearing.  He likes the come-when-I-call-you and the tongue-flapping-in-the-wind-out-the-window-of-the-car.  But he becomes irate at the chewing.  “Why would any animal chew on a rock (bike helmet/moldy sponge/support beam of a house)!!” He doesn’t understand that it feels good (apparently) and “that” (i.e. the chewing), is essentially what dogs do.  Look at the teeth.  Teeth chew.  Teeth like that aren’t truly meant for quaint companionship, bay-window-in-the-afternoon-sun kind of lolly gagging.  Teeth like that are meant to hunt, catch, kill and chew, be it gopher, quail or Wilson pro tennis ball (or, most recently, the left half of a still functioning pair of children’s gym shoes.)  He (my friend) is also visibly annoyed and wholly embarrassed by the public defecating and urination (on the part of the dog).  He is especially put off by the essential good-boy kudos that follow during clean-up. “My god,” he says, “look at that thing, what the hell are you feeding him!?”  Just dog food, I explain, with a side of my favorite geraniums.

  Upon deeper inspection I would say my friend really wants, nee, yearns to be the type of guy who likes dogs.  The carefree jeep-driving-down-vest-wearing carefree fella who always smells vaguely of bonfire.  But in actuality, I believe what he really likes is Air Bud.  Or the Shaggy D.A.  Dogs with the secondary characteristics of humans.  Above average humans.  Humans who can score from outside the key or can bring in a six-figure income.  Perhaps it’s safer to look for these traits in dogs rather than in fellow persons.  That, after all, would be snobbish.  But even my friend can’t deny the true draw of dogs to dog people, the sweet reward after a day, week or lifetime of unsightly landscaping, stinky car interiors and missing shoes.  Every night at exactly seven thirty-one the dog collapses next to you on the floor, half rolled over, hoping, praying in dog prayers that some part of you will just pet some part of him for ten, no, forty minutes.  And then he’s asleep dreaming about chasing birds.  Or shooting the winning basket.  Or winning that big court case.

  

  Kim
  Currently in love/hate relationship with 10 month old black lab.

  • 1:26 am
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