In our part of the world, it would seem that the cold weather has passed its worst for the season. Already our dogs seem to be enjoying the moderate warmth, but they clearly miss the snow, and for us, the dreadful thaw stage is always accompanied by our floors being decorated with impossibly crazy patterns of dirty paw prints. For less fortunate dogs, the respite from the cold may represent something a little more crucial, and may even de-mark the difference between periods of life threatening experience vs. a time of safety.
I am speaking of course of those dogs that spend their lives in the outdoors. If you've sampled the bitter cold of a North American winter, you'll already know that prolonged exposure to even short-lived temperature cascades can be a deeply unpleasant experience if you are not physically prepared. Yet there still remains a certain category of human being that thinks it's O.K. to expose their pets to extreme sub-zero temperatures, day in, day out.
At this point, you may be expecting me to descend into a condemnatory indictment of cruel and thoughtless owners; but that would be rather obvious. The cold-heartedness of their behaviour is self-evident and there's very little point in dwelling upon the physical hardship of what these dogs go through. I'm sure you can imagine. Frankly, if I was going to do that, I should have posted this blog last November.
It’s the whole of issue of people who have dogs and then isolate them from themselves that has been bothering me of late. I find myself wondering about why these individuals would choose to have a dog in the first place? Admittedly I am somewhat biased, but I cannot comprehend acquiring any animal (that it should be such a pleasure to spend one's life with) and then keeping it in exile from yourself, living at a constant arm's length.
In part my thoughts were sparked by a little episode a few days ago when I was talking to a person who was telling me that he had just got a puppy. “How’s it getting on?” I asked. “Well we don’t let it in the house” he responded. “Why? Don’t you like it?” I asked, trying to mask my… I was going to say horror, but it was actually contempt. Of course he used the standard excuse that the dog was there for guarding. And this, it would seem, is adequate justification for forcing so many creatures to endure not only all of the hardships that the weather may provide (after all, snow and ice are not the only inclemencies that nature may throw at them) but also for condemning them to lives of isolation. I have pondered what precisely do these hapless creatures guard their owners against? Dangerous psychopaths? Marauding bears? Threatening raccoons? Their owner’s own paranoia? And if the guarding is really necessary and there is some kind of clear and present danger, would the perpetrators pick times of the nastiest weather to do their worst? Is it not conceivable that they too would prefer not to be out doing their evil deeds when the climate is least conducive to skullduggery? But there I am, back to the weather again, and that’s not the nub of it.
Granted, I can accept that some livestock guardian breeds are best suited to being in the great outdoors on a permanent basis. Their intensely thick coats and protective dispositions almost require that kind of lifestyle. But even the most hardened farmers I have known are grateful enough for the service their dogs perform to offer them shelter.
So what is it with those who keep their poor canines outside all the time? What's their excuse? Could it be that they have just not thought it through because of their total inability to empathise? Is there some kind of congenital predisposition in some towards believing that "this is what dogs are for"? Or is this the only life they may conceive of for a dog? Is there a canine equivalent for misogyny/misandry?
I have certainly known those who do not even profess to have their dogs for guarding purposes, yet still do not allow them inside. I knew a despicable (sorry, couldn't hold back on that one either) individual who allowed his partner to rescue an ailing older dog with crippling arthritis, and then refused the animal all access to the comforts his home could offer, and in so doing merely compounded the creature’s misery and discomfort, making his lot worse than it had been in the loving foster home from which they took him.
I have met several women who were so house-proud that the fear of mud on carpets or stray hairs on furnishings caused them to deny access to their four-legged friend.
But worst and perhaps most cruel of all are those who have at one time allowed their pets the luxury of becoming fully fledged members of the family, only to subsequently deny them that right and banish them when circumstances change. The arrival of an infant, a change in domicile or even an alteration in a state of mind can cause this one. Whatever, the result is the same: separation of man and beast.
Our society has selected canines along with a few other ‘chosen’ creatures to be our companions. There are deeply seated and somewhat surprising reasons for this that I have never explored in the covers of my books because of how bizarre they are in their nature. Nonetheless, dogs are to us what they are, and to expel them from our lives, yet still be in their proximity has implications far beyond the heartless acts of unthinking owners. Not sharing our day to day experience with those dogs that we 'own' is to deprive ourselves of an experience of ourselves that we may not glean in any other way, for a dog may look at us from the perspective of who we could be, not who we are. It is an opportunity to be missed.
For their part, once introduced into our homes dogs quickly form bonds and develop the desire to spend their lives with us. If treated with respect and kindness, they cherish the relationships they have with their humans. They are unendingly loyal and devoted and desire little more than to be by our sides.
I can accept that people are where they are on their ascension pathway, and that they may have a lot of learning still to 'get'. But there's another part of me that can't help feeling that if people can't see the true nature of what our relationship with dogs can offer us, they're just being a bit stupid!
I am speaking of course of those dogs that spend their lives in the outdoors. If you've sampled the bitter cold of a North American winter, you'll already know that prolonged exposure to even short-lived temperature cascades can be a deeply unpleasant experience if you are not physically prepared. Yet there still remains a certain category of human being that thinks it's O.K. to expose their pets to extreme sub-zero temperatures, day in, day out.
At this point, you may be expecting me to descend into a condemnatory indictment of cruel and thoughtless owners; but that would be rather obvious. The cold-heartedness of their behaviour is self-evident and there's very little point in dwelling upon the physical hardship of what these dogs go through. I'm sure you can imagine. Frankly, if I was going to do that, I should have posted this blog last November.
It’s the whole of issue of people who have dogs and then isolate them from themselves that has been bothering me of late. I find myself wondering about why these individuals would choose to have a dog in the first place? Admittedly I am somewhat biased, but I cannot comprehend acquiring any animal (that it should be such a pleasure to spend one's life with) and then keeping it in exile from yourself, living at a constant arm's length.
In part my thoughts were sparked by a little episode a few days ago when I was talking to a person who was telling me that he had just got a puppy. “How’s it getting on?” I asked. “Well we don’t let it in the house” he responded. “Why? Don’t you like it?” I asked, trying to mask my… I was going to say horror, but it was actually contempt. Of course he used the standard excuse that the dog was there for guarding. And this, it would seem, is adequate justification for forcing so many creatures to endure not only all of the hardships that the weather may provide (after all, snow and ice are not the only inclemencies that nature may throw at them) but also for condemning them to lives of isolation. I have pondered what precisely do these hapless creatures guard their owners against? Dangerous psychopaths? Marauding bears? Threatening raccoons? Their owner’s own paranoia? And if the guarding is really necessary and there is some kind of clear and present danger, would the perpetrators pick times of the nastiest weather to do their worst? Is it not conceivable that they too would prefer not to be out doing their evil deeds when the climate is least conducive to skullduggery? But there I am, back to the weather again, and that’s not the nub of it.
Granted, I can accept that some livestock guardian breeds are best suited to being in the great outdoors on a permanent basis. Their intensely thick coats and protective dispositions almost require that kind of lifestyle. But even the most hardened farmers I have known are grateful enough for the service their dogs perform to offer them shelter.
So what is it with those who keep their poor canines outside all the time? What's their excuse? Could it be that they have just not thought it through because of their total inability to empathise? Is there some kind of congenital predisposition in some towards believing that "this is what dogs are for"? Or is this the only life they may conceive of for a dog? Is there a canine equivalent for misogyny/misandry?
I have certainly known those who do not even profess to have their dogs for guarding purposes, yet still do not allow them inside. I knew a despicable (sorry, couldn't hold back on that one either) individual who allowed his partner to rescue an ailing older dog with crippling arthritis, and then refused the animal all access to the comforts his home could offer, and in so doing merely compounded the creature’s misery and discomfort, making his lot worse than it had been in the loving foster home from which they took him.
I have met several women who were so house-proud that the fear of mud on carpets or stray hairs on furnishings caused them to deny access to their four-legged friend.
But worst and perhaps most cruel of all are those who have at one time allowed their pets the luxury of becoming fully fledged members of the family, only to subsequently deny them that right and banish them when circumstances change. The arrival of an infant, a change in domicile or even an alteration in a state of mind can cause this one. Whatever, the result is the same: separation of man and beast.
Our society has selected canines along with a few other ‘chosen’ creatures to be our companions. There are deeply seated and somewhat surprising reasons for this that I have never explored in the covers of my books because of how bizarre they are in their nature. Nonetheless, dogs are to us what they are, and to expel them from our lives, yet still be in their proximity has implications far beyond the heartless acts of unthinking owners. Not sharing our day to day experience with those dogs that we 'own' is to deprive ourselves of an experience of ourselves that we may not glean in any other way, for a dog may look at us from the perspective of who we could be, not who we are. It is an opportunity to be missed.
For their part, once introduced into our homes dogs quickly form bonds and develop the desire to spend their lives with us. If treated with respect and kindness, they cherish the relationships they have with their humans. They are unendingly loyal and devoted and desire little more than to be by our sides.
I can accept that people are where they are on their ascension pathway, and that they may have a lot of learning still to 'get'. But there's another part of me that can't help feeling that if people can't see the true nature of what our relationship with dogs can offer us, they're just being a bit stupid!