…..I am not sure, actually.  It is good in principle but it feels weird to me.  I’m talking about ‘dog’ people.  What a bunch!

Sal makes me walk.  She thinks it is good for me.  And she thinks it is good for Fid, our dog.  That there is little distinction between us in her thinking process disturbs me.  She must think I am a dog.  Kinda.  Not as cute, tho.  She really likes it when we play together, that’s for sure.  In and of itself, that isn’t so bad.  But it seems I am dog #2. Fid is top dog. I am not happy about my place in the pecking (or peeing) order.

And every day we go to the beach and walk the dog(s).  And every day other people walk their dogs.  And some of those people are as ‘every day’ as we are.  Ergo – ‘dog’ people. We don’t know their names but we know their dog’s name.  That’s weird, don’t you think? We don’t talk about anything except our dog’s looks and behaviours but we do it every day and we do it with many of the same people.  That’s weird, too.

Are they all lottery winners?  Some are clearly trophy-wives but what of all the other ne’er do wells on the off-leash dog highway?  Shouldn’t they BE somewhere?

Occasionally, I hear Sal commenting to others on my looks and behaviours, too, but I am usually busy with a ball or something and don’t catch too much of it.  I am busy doing something.

The other day we saw Bentley but the people with him were not the same as the one we normally see.  “Who the hell are you!?  And what are you doing with Bentley?” I snarled.  

It turns out they were family members, not dog thieves.  Which is good because I was feeling protective all of a sudden.  My ears went back.  My lip had curled.  But Sal soon settled me down.  The young woman (daughter) was kind of attractive and, when I bent down to pet Bentley, she turned her back to me and presented, as they say.  I was tempted to sniff.

A sharp rebuke from Sal set me right.

Fid doesn’t normally consort with dogs.  Not his style.  I think he has sniffed fewer butts than even me!  He just ignores the four-legged altogether.  Looks down on them.  Unless he has to look up and then his manner changes somewhat but never in a ‘let’s do lunch’ kinda way.  He just walks away even faster.  He wants nothing to do with damn dogs! In that way, we are much the same.

The exception: his own kind.  Unless they are of the same breed, Fid is a snob.  Almost racist. Definitely elitist.  But Bentley is a Portugese Water Dog and so that explains our closeness to who-ever-she-is who owns him.

PWD owners are, themselves, a breed apart.  They tend to introduce themselves at dog parks, talk about PW dogs, talk about their dog’s genius and beauty and generally congratulate themselves on being owners of such fine canine specimens.  Like Ferrari owners or residents of Shaughnessy do.

It’s weird.

They go so far as to gather and walk together in PWD groups.  They ‘do’ Porty walks together. They gather in parking lots at a trail head somewhere and then ten or so dogs and an equal number (or more) of people walk along a trail waiting for their turn to pick up dog poop.  In the meantime (between canine bowel movements) they talk about their dog’s behaviours and good looks.  Ad nauseam.

This just does not make any real sense to me.  I just don’t get it.  I go.  But I go for the treats, ya know?  And the affection, of course.  I like the attention.  But I really don’t want to consort with any of the people,.  They are not my type.  Like Fid, I’m a bit of a snob, too, I guess.