In response to Skinny’s blog (Five Reasons Dogs Are Not People)…I’ve had several dogs and cats as pets. Some I felt deep affection for; some I could not wait for them to be gone. None of which I would place as part of my family, except maybe my brother’s 7th wife. She tried hard but just didn’t fit in. Oh, wait! she’s not a dog! But I have to take exception to Skinny’s opinion.
Spike, my one and only Sir Poopsalot (knighted in 2008 by the Queen herself), has been my bastion against depression sleeping. He doesn’t care if I tossed and turned all night. 4:30 am is what it is…time to face the world. I’ve tried to explain that 4:30 only holds for work days and that I can sleep in a wee bit longer, but the point is lost on him.
“Time is of the of the essence, old man. Best to do things now while you have a choice.”, Spike insists. And he is right. I know it, I just have to get my body to move with it.
Okay, Spike, I believe you (jump in the line, mark your body in time). He’s going on 9 years old and still the Jack Russell mix that is known for bouncing off walls until they die. That’s a good thing. I don’t know if I would want it any other way. And, no, he is definitely not people. But that’s not a bad thing. Not all best pals are human. Spike is on guard against any threat to my well being or so the neighbors think. I think it’s just an excuse to bark up a storm when he knows it will earn him a treat.
We’ve got new neighbors down the hall. The Smiths are wonderful people, full of niceness. Best neighbors I’ve had in a long time. They are quiet, friendly. They are young and work away from their home during the day. They also own a couple of sweetheart dogs named Salt & Pepper (names changed to protect the innocent). I know they are sweethearts because I’ve petted them when Spike was not around. Unfortunately, Spike is a loner, a one-man kinda guy who does not tolerate mutts messing with his territory. We need to walk past the neighbors’ door to get to the Down Staircase for our walks. Salt & Pepper seem to know we are in the hall long before NSA could ever know. They sense Spike’s I-Own-This-Place attitude and somehow don’t quite agree with his policy. So it’s “take a few steps, yank in the leash; take a few more steps and yank in the leash” just to make it past their door. Keep in mind, this is a short hall. But by the time we are halfway down the hall, S&P are going ballistic. I manage to scoot Spike to the stairwell and outside. S&P then move to the owners’ bedroom windows that face the street, howling and barking until we get at least 50 yards away. Spike takes it all and then pees on the first bush he finds outside. He has no control over how they act, but he shows his true colors as a knight of the Round Table by not lowering himself to the snarling actions of the lesser class. And we quickly move on to more interesting smells in the neighborhood.
Okay so that’s just one example of Dogs Aren’t People but Might be Just as Good or Better.
Whatever the connection Spike and I have, he may not be people, but then there are a lot of people I know who are not people. We just kind of let each other know that the scratch behind his ear and the lick on my nose are things we share without judging who the people are.