Dogma

It has come to my attention, yet again, just how touchy people are when it comes to dogs. I know, I know, many M&Y&E readers and bloggers and guest bloggers, and the public in general, are dog people. I know this. And this post is not meant to offend any of you die-hard dog lovers. And in the interest of full disclosure I need to point out that while I sit here writing these words I have a gorgeous, 1-year-old, golden retriever lying next to me on the bed, his head on my knee. And that I grew up having a dog as a family pet, and that when I started my own family there was also a faithful family dog.
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But my point, my point remains the same -- people get incredibly edgy if you happen to let on that you yourself are not a "dog person." You can sometimes actually hear the intake of breath around you. "You don't like dogs?" people ask, barely disguising their disdain. It's as though their entire image of you is changed, that you are not the person they once thought you were. Can you even really be trusted? they seem to ponder.
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It's not that I dislike dogs, I don't. I like dogs, but not enough to actually go out and get one. They are something that other people around me have brought into my life. (Much like TVs, I just realized; I've never gone out and secured one of these either, but I always seem to have one in my home.)
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I'm not sure how it came up last weekend, but it did. I was at a small, neighborhood happy hour and it somehow slipped out: I'm not really a dog person. I spent the next 10 minutes or so defending my position, as if anyone should need to defend whether or not they like something. It's an opinion people. My opinion. I'm not trying to convert you.
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But I do have my reasons.
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Where to start....dogs are needy. I don't need needy. I have two children. Dogs need attention: dogs need to be walked, dogs need a ball thrown to them, dogs need to be pet, dogs cannot be left alone for the weekend. They are too dependent for my liking.
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They also tend to be loud and somewhat hyper. Two more things my life is not lacking in. Oh how I love peace and quite, it's something I don't get nearly enough of, a dog just makes attaining this hard-to-reach state harder.
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Dogs are messy. I'm not going to fault them for shedding; they have no opposable thumbs, so they can't be expected to brush themselves, but what's with the dripping water after they take a drink? C'mon, is there a hole in your lip? Or what about dogs who out-and-out slobber? Can't they do anything about that? Or how smelly they get. The last thing I want to do with my weekend is wash a dog, because we all know the only thing that smells worse than your dog, is your wet dog.
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And although they are considered a social animal, they have such poor manners. I mean you can hardly tear a dog away from any other dog's ass, or any other dog's poop on the sidewalk, and you sure as shit cannot tear a dog away from cat poop. That turd is in the dog's mouth, plain or covered with kitty litter, before you can even react. (Face it, T, it's true!). And in the same vein, they're so immodest, they'll take a dump just about anywhere.
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I will admit that dogs do have their good points: they are typically very affectionate, very faithful, they provide laughs on occasion, and they love you unconditionally. But still, do I really need one?

Who knows, maybe in my next life I'll be a dog person. Maybe I'll even carry a tiny, sweater-clad one around with my in my purse.

Nah, not likely.