‘I need to get a hypo-allergenic one’ people say, shamelessly, as if dogs were jeans – skinny one year, boot cut the next. Like the now ubiquitous gluten-free products, there are oodles of Oodles being produced and sold largely on the basis of their alleged USP, that of being hypo-allergenic. Am not saying that some people don’t need to go gluten-free or to go oodle, it’s just that it’s all become a bit much, hasn’t it?
When I was growing up, we were one of the few families in my area that had a dog. When I was nine years old, Tess – a tiny ball of monochrome fluff – become all mine, the fruits of a six year nagging campaign. At five weeks old she was of course far too young to be away from her working sheepdog mum but sadly, she already, irrevocably was, stuck in a rabbit cage in a rescue centre, destined not to survive more than a few nights. We whisked her away to warmth, a ticking clock, coddling. She’d survived the culling of her siblings by hiding in the hay, the method of their death so classic it was a cliché: they had been put into a sack and drowned. A stout corgy/husky/collie cross (wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to meet the mums and dads of our dogs!) and the sole survivor of an unplanned pregnancy, I was devoted to her – we roamed the woods every day after school and did gymkhanas in our back garden. She was ill disciplined - she yapped to go out then yapped to come back in – but she was never any real trouble. She slept on my bed and survived on a diet of Pedigree Chum, Maltesers, and Chinese takeaways. She wasn’t ill a day in her life and passed away peacefully on my parents’ bed, looking out at the enormous Magnolia tree which we humans all adored. We hadn’t realised that she too appreciated its resplendent white blooms that turned sticky and slimy when they fell but that were so well worth it. Never underestimate a dog.
So I was ever, always a committed dog lover. I always will be. And so it’s strange to hear myself saying this, but I think there are too many dogs in the parks these days, at least in London, UK. That perhaps – just perhaps – the concentration of dogs in our society is now too high. I don’t have a job, I don’t have children, and despite fastidious devotion to the task and a budget running more into the thousands than the hundreds I’m ashamed to say that I still haven’t managed to train our second (lunatic) dog, who we’ve had for way over three years. I can’t fathom how people with jobs and children manage it. Granted, they probably don’t have a Jackson, but still
Me aged 9 or 10 with Tess, my first dog love.
A couple of observations from this week tell me a lot about The Dog Situation. One – a sensible, affable lady who basically liked animals had got annoyed at a dog who was sniffing at her barbecue on the beach, his humans sniggering and giggling and doing bugger all to call him away. She’d been worried he was going to knock the fire over, and irritated that he might lick her sausages. There are so many unruly, irritating dogs around these days that even dog lovers are starting to get dog intolerant. Two – a friend of a friend who told me that she was going to get a dog even though she was quite open about actively disliking them. Her husband, an almost obsessive clean freak, didn’t especially like them either. But the kids want one, so they will be getting one – a hypoallergenic, bred puppy, of course. Made to order, reassuringly expensive. This highly intelligent, otherwise (presumably) socially / emotionally intelligent person had no shame rabbiting on about all this to me – a self-confessed, vocal, vehement dog lover. She could so easily have been talking about an ipad or a coffee table. I was appalled and went right off her. There is a growing divide - not only between non dog owners and dog owners but also between people who have dogs and people who have dogs. Yes, you read that right. I don't consider her part of the pro dog tribe.
When I was young, kids who expressed an interest in or even a burning desire to pet own usually got fish, hamsters, some sort of rodent – a cat if they were lucky. People just didn’t really buy dogs for kids back then. To be fair they didn’t buy lots of other s*** for them either. There were far fewer dogs in the parks, people were less precious about behaviour, society in general was not so much of a pressure cooker. When an altercation did happen, it didn’t escalate into a full-on hoo-hah. I recently had a disagreement with an idiot whose 3 nasty little french bulldogs (this is not an attack on all frenchies, some are lovely obviously) had packed on mine, one of them getting a ripped ear in the process. He subsequently threatened and stalked me. I – never one to give in to a bully – had to get a police intervention against him. It's a long and quite shocking story, one I'll write about another time. Crazy days, really.
Don’t get me wrong, plenty of my friends successfully have dogs as a not especially thought through addition to their human families. The dogs and children are happy (the more playmates and chaos the better), the parents are happy. And Thomas, the full of beans miniature schnauzer, will be in situ to avert the otherwise impending empty nest crisis. But let’s look at the parks. Where there used to be the odd few dogs there are now dozens of them, many with disinterested, underpaid staff doubling as dog walkers. Anyone who knows anything knows that if you put too many dogs who are not in established packs together it can turn ugly. Incidentally, even professional dog walkers are not necessarily these days all people who understand or even particularly love dogs, so when you put your precious fur baby (I hate that expression) with one, make sure it’s one you have personally vetted – and shrewdly. Preferably, I’d say, spy on them – but perhaps I’m being overly neurotic.
A dog is for life, not just for Christmas. Indeed, we’re all finally clear on that. A dog is also not for every Tom Dick and Harry (or Noah, Milo and Olivia) whose parents decide that a dog might look good on their Instagram feed, or who have FOMO because the family down the road got one. And I do wish people would stop thinking that spending a lot on a dog will guarantee it grows up into a romping, adorable Timmy from the Famous Five. Some things can’t - and perhaps shouldn’t - be bought.
(My posts won’t always be ranty!)