Dogs Are People Too

Last night my husband and I made the dubious choice of going out for ice cream. I say "dubious" for two reasons: one, because that is exactly what it was, and two, the word gets too little use and it's a good one. We live about two miles from one of those soft-serve custard stands that is open only in summer, and so we feel almost as if it is our civic duty to frequent the establishment just to keep it in business for all the tourists, or so we tell ourselves.

Anyway, we went and had our fill, and it would have been a lovely outing except for one thing, and that was an adorable dog who was with a threesome at the outdoor table next to ours. One of those Little Orphan Annie dogs with the curly hair, he sat at military attention, staring straight into his owner's eyes, hoping, praying for a drop of whatever delectable treat she and her two teenage sons were enjoying. He got none, of course, despite my purposely audible observation that he looked like such a good dog and where was his treat, etc., etc. It got me wondering about the time-worn adage, "A dog is man's best friend." Look around and see how they get treated, and then consider if you would treat your best friend that way.

Begin your investigation at any supermarket parking lot, where the insistent howls, yelps, moans and whines from all the "best friends" locked inside cars, each with a window left open of course, fill the air. (I find that sound haunting me as I walk the aisles.) I no longer have a dog of my own--or a best friend--but when I did, I never locked either of them in the car for even a moment. You can also find Man's Best Friend tied up outside of shops and restaurants, or dragging along in the summer heat behind bikers and joggers or trapped in cages at the vet's office where they've been parked for a few days or weeks while the family goes on vacation.

Earlier this summer, on a particularly hot day, I took a walk with my neighbor and her "best friend." Polly had not brought a water bottle for herself and seemed fine, but the dog was clearly dehydrated after the first mile or so. I inquired about this, and Polly said, "Oh, he had a drink at home before we left. He's fine." (I gave him my water which he lapped up greedily.) I tell you, most dog owners give friendship a bad name.