When I first decided to go public with my lack of love for canines I thought I’d call this piece “It’s a dog’s life.” But then I realized I don’t even know what that means. Is it a good thing or a bad thing?
So off to the dictionary I went, and sure enough, according to my trusty friend Merriam-Webster, a dog’s life is one that is “difficult, boring, and unhappy.” Ouch! That does suck.
Or maybe that definition is simply outdated.
Because the dogs I see around, I have to tell you, seem better treated and more respected than many a human, including myself when I go to a café and want a glass of water, for example. You too may have noticed this strange phenomenon in which bowls are immediately procured for pups, while you yourself choke down your meal, dry, no matter how many requests (read desperate pleas) for a glass of water transpire.
But let’s backtrack for a moment. How on earth did dogs even end up in cafés? Or worse, for people like me, in workspaces. I’m always a little turned off when a company that’s recruiting brags of its dog-friendly spaces. Surely I’m not the only one that doesn’t want a dog sniffing at me under the desk. Some may even have a more legitimate concern, like allergies.
During the most recent skirmish when we were spending time running to bomb shelters, a topic came up in my local online news forum in the city of Holon. Apparently there were signs that dogs were not allowed inside. Turns out these were old signs, unfortunately, and no longer relevant. But in the interim, plenty of people in the talkbacks freaked the f&*k out. I mean literally saying “to hell with anyone who doesn’t want a dog in an airless crowded space with them. To hell with anyone who is scared of dogs. Kids who are allergic or whatever. Throw them out and let them sit on the stairs!” For real, this was the human spirit of the 186 people who bothered to comment. It was, in my eyes, both startling and depraved.
To be fair, during COVID-19 times, I asked a single friend what he did to fill his time. He said lots of Netflix, podcasts and cute animal videos. “Do you like cute animal videos?” he asked. “I can send you some.” I was flattered to know he knew me so well as to ask. “Honestly, I don’t really like animals,” I responded. Not even puppies. Like the Grinch. I’m that kind of person I guess.
But I don’t really come into contact with most other animals, thank God. And they don’t hold such a revered place in our day-to-day lives, so nobody really knows. Well, except for you now.
Dogs on the other hand are ubiquitous. Besides the aforementioned cafés and workplaces, they are literally taking over the sidewalks. And I’m not just talking about their poop, which still abounds. I understand it’s cumbersome and perhaps a bit gross to stoop and scoop, but for all those folks who want me to respect their love of a dog as one would have for a kid, I can assure you, I too hated changing diapers, but that’s just part of the pleasure.
All over the sidewalks means it’s sometimes very hard to walk. And even harder to run as distracted owners on their phones let their dogs out on full leash creating seriously dangerous obstacles for passersby. Equally annoying is being lurched at, as I scurry past, at least half a dozen times during a good run, by friendly (?) enthusiastic pups. This both startles me and just as often, forces me to jump onto the street, to avoid the lunge – something I think is reasonable not to love. Comparing again to my own kids, who can admittedly be rambunctious, I do not recall their jumping on someone passing by, or even seated for that matter. I keep them on a tight leash, figuratively, and expect the same.
And while in Israel I have lapsed on certain basic manners from my previous incarnation – including letting my boys pee on trees – that lapse is sadly partially inspired by the propensity of dogs. After all, with a rather fair certainty I can say, every square centimeter of surface area in my vicinity has been sprayed with dog pee. And since it doesn’t rain in these parts of the woods six months a year, one can only imagine how ludicrous it is that all the germophobes out there have a pooch. Plus, you too may have noticed, it’s no longer just dark corners under bridges that smell like pee. It’s my entire street.
Not all dogs, of course, are created equally, and there are occasionally dogs I come to like. Like people really, once they become known. My neighbors, for example, have a cute little dog that looks a bit like Gizmo from the Gremlins, which is about the extent of my knowledge on breeds as well as a pretty clear indicator of my age.
Another neighbor on the other hand has a big dog who bites, known from firsthand witnessing by my son, my electrician and some unassuming woman who was kind enough to hold the lobby door. Why anyone would continue to keep such an animal in a small apartment is anyone’s guess.
YET I stray, and so back to the matter at hand. “A difficult, boring, and unhappy life.”
Perhaps on a farm, life for a dog is difficult. But then probably less boring and happier, being more active and fulfilled. In cities like Tel Aviv, on the other end, dogs’ lives seem rather easy. They eat, drink, walk, and play, with no demands made of them other than to exist. Many regularly consume ice cream, designer dog treats and even filet mignon. This I can see may seem boring, though many a modern dog as we’ve discussed also goes to cafés, on trips and even to work, so is certainly no less tedious than my very own existence, sans the responsibility.
In fact, depending on the owner and accounting for the water it always gets, the average urban dog’s life might even be more indulgent than mine. Diamonds and Louis Vuitton for dogs, yoga for dogs, dog therapists, and dog massages? Is the typical dog living in the top 1%? Or is it that dog owners as a breed simply have too much money?
I’ve certainly seen seemingly normal folks publicly brag of spoiling their dogs rotten, which some parents may do with their actual kids, but would be less likely to print as a boast on a doormat, as a cute entrance message to their abode. Yes, with my own eyes I have sadly witnessed a Home of Spoiled Rotten Dogs rug, which made me think, if I was so inclined and serendipitously came upon their stoop, I might just want to ransack that home.
So what was the point of this whole exercise if you’ve managed to read this far?
First of all, if you are not a dog lover, know that you are not alone. It’s hard to admit this publicly these days, and you may even lose a few friends in doing so (I’ll report back). But there are pockets of people like me who feel the same way, wondering why every person in a 35-sq.m. space needs a pooch or two, and wishing if they had such a need, they’d just keep them at home, or at least respectfully away from me.
Second, if you are a dog lover, I can still very much love you. But I don’t love your dog. Or more generously I might say, I like your dog but from afar. And that’s okay too. And no, I don’t need to get over it, certainly no more than you need to get over me not wanting to dine with, or pet, or get slobbered upon, or paw-printed, or simply barked at by your pooch. Many seem to want me to treat their dogs like humans, so let’s be realistic about personal space then, and see how well some of the more uninvited physical aspects would be accepted between two people and the concept of consent.
And third, while some parents do occasionally bring their kids to work, they certainly do not bring them every day. Having their flesh and blood Mini-Me underfoot every day would wreak of being unprofessional, whereas Rover under the table is fair game. And no, that was not me advocating for more child-friendly workplaces.
The reality is, life is so good for dogs these days that not only is a dog’s life enviable, but I’m pretty sure another expression needs to be rethought in its entirety as well. And that is, gone to the dogs.
Once having meant to become ruined or significantly worsened in condition, based on the current climate not only is that completely untrue – as dogs’ lives continue on an upward trajectory probably faster than humans – but I’m guessing in our strange world, that many a dog owner would be bizarrely outraged on behalf of their animals to hear such a disparaging description in reference to their pets. Yes, that really is how weird life is, circa 2021.
The author is a freelance writer and editor living in Holon. Her kids, as things turn out, like dogs.