Not What They Seem
At my new apartment, I have a great view of a lovely little field that is attached to an elementary school. Every morning and every evening, two German Shepherds go there with their people. Sometimes the person is a man, sometimes they are with a lady and sometimes the people are together. Every once in a while, from my living room, I have watched these folks interact with their dogs and thought about what dedicated and great dog owners they were. I marveled at how well the dogs behaved, and how enthusiastic yet under control they were when off their leashes and how attentive they were to their people. I pictured the dogs going home after their fun in the field and curling up on matching dog beds and being petted and loved by their folks in a large yet cozy Victorian down the street.
Then, this last Sunday, as I sat on my porch sipping coffee and looking out over the misty field, I heard a stern sounding voice. It was the kind of voice that I have occasionally overheard at the grocery store from an angry parent. It's the kind of voice I associate with a too tight grip of the arm and a seething red face. The kind of voice that is so intense you feel for the child hearing it and consider intervening on their behalf.
I looked up and saw the people out there with the German Shepherds and realized the intense voices were coming from these dog owners I thought were so great. The stern voices became yells, and the people were saying things like, "you stupid dog, bring me the f'in frisbee!" and "NO, you Goddamn idiot!" This was accompanied by much yanking of leashes and other kinds of "corrections" as the visit to the field progressed. It was uncomfortable to witness, and it made me wonder if the dogs ever had positive experiences with these people. I remembered back and realized that even watching without volume from inside, I never saw the people pet the dogs or interact in a way that wasn't "training." I know that German Shepherds are big dogs that can be aggressive sometimes, but I've also seen really sweet ones that haven't been continuously disciplined. It's weird. Why would a person have a dog (or dogs) at all if it was that miserable of an experience to raise them?
It also made me think that I should probably pay attention to other situations in my life where I have made up rosy scenarios to fill in the blanks. I mean, here I was picturing this great life for these dogs when in reality, those owners seem mean and sad and probably have to run the dogs in the morning and evening because they have to lock them up in some cramped back yard all day while at work. It made me wonder, what other sorts of happy stories have I told myself to make myself not see what is really there?
Do I really want to know?
posted by Kate @ 9:01 AM
4 Comments:
That's why Hobbits stay in the Shire.
But I'm crying right now, as I remember how I mistreated (mostly through negligence) a dog my parents got for us as a kid. I had no time for it. None of us did. And when it misbehaved, we blamed him.
I tried to make it up to him when he was older. But by then I was allergic. He died in my arms. He haunts me. Poor innocent thing. It kills me. I hate myself thinking about him.
This is not, specificially, why I disapprove of pets. (That's mostly a cleanliness issue, and I don't like the idea of in house pets whether one dotes on them or not.) But NOT being able to devote your life, or large parts of it, to the member of the animal kingdom you want desperately to believe fills some human need or plays some human role (i.e. replacing children) is the very best reason to not acquire a pet.
You were making a bigger point. Which I liked, and would have liked to comment on. But I got distracted.
I like what you said. I often wonder why I have house cats. Carl Fleming thinks I'm cruel for putting collars on them because they don't even go outside, but maybe I subconsciously do it so that I don't mistake them for children. The day I put sweaters on my kitties and start speaking for them is the day you should intervene and quietly tell me to get help.
In the 1930s and 1940s the Germans had a powerful and ambitious army military. German Shepherds were part of that powerful army. If you think being yelled at in English sounds harsh, you've never been yelled at by a Nazi. Those guys were mean.
Sorry about your dog Scott. I know how you feel. I feel terrible for every animal that ever died on my watch. Mostly birds and one dog. A couple of snakes.
I forgot to mention that I have seen those people with the German Shepherds. I know right where that field is. I wanted to ask if I could photograph the dogs.
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