I would not go so far as to suggest that there is a doggie conspiracy in the works, though it does seem that whatever in life exists for humans, exists for dogs, as well-that dogs have darn near been elevated to the same status as their people. Here is just a small list of all things doggie: spas and salons, daycare, cemeteries, Doga (doggie yoga for the uninitiated), marriage chapels, parks, restaurants with special outdoor accommodations, therapists (or whisperers), hypnotists, special dentistry, canine couture, and dating services (Middle-aged fun-loving male pug looking for female pug with similar interests: frolicking in the grass, butt-sniffing, scent-marking, and going for car rides with the windows down). The list is endless. Now there is a social media for dogs through Facebook, called Dogbook.
I can hardly criticize as I set up my dog’s profile the moment I became aware of such a medium. (And the last I checked, “where 3.5 million dogs interact daily.”) Why? I’m not exactly sure why. “My dog’s on Facebook,” sounds rather contemporary. It also has the “my dog has everything” ring. “He’s on par with me.” Perhaps Dogbook’s attractiveness is in part to provide an opportunity to release elements of one’s alter ego manifested through their dog, as in my case, Cosmo-an over-indulged, snowy-white, miniature Poodle. Currently, I am struggling with the content of Cosmo’s posts, since they are conceptually meant to emanate from him. And much of what my adorable doggie pal might say could be unflattering if it were interpreted as a reflection of me. Case in point, the following:
“I pooped four times today. That’s a record for me. Lol.”
“OMG! The bitch next door is pregnant again with her third litter!”
“My mom uses a new washcloth every night to wipe my eyes, anus, and paws before she lifts me into bed with her and dad. I’m a lucky pooch.”
“Too much exercise. Nap time. An hour’s walk every morning, idk wtf my mom’s thinking.”
“It’s raining and my people expect me to pee outside?”
“Steak and chicken for the third night in a row. Grrr. How’s a guy supposed to get a little more variety around this place?”
“I ate some grass cuz yesterday’s dog bone was festering in my stomach and my mom freaks out when I puke on the sofa cushion. Humans, sheesh. Idk what the big deal is.”
“Phew, I’m tired but satisfied. I just love a robust round of humping my stuffed toys after a good meal then licking my genitals, especially when mom and dad have company over.”
“Oh, my person’s calling me . . . brb.”
“Went to the vet this afternoon. Ugh. Seems every time I go there, they remove a different part of my anatomy. First my manly parts and now a growth I would have eventually been able to chew off on my own. As far as the first offense, now that I know about Neuticles (prosthetic testicular implants for neutered dogs, for the unenlightened), I aim to get me a set, even larger than my amputated originals. Woof!”
M.A. MacAfee may be contacted through the website: www.mamacafee.com or email: [email protected]
