Don’t know how it is at yours, but out here dogs regularly take their men for a walk. Yes, some women too. But, mostly men.
The men make it a point to turn out well. Some are meticulous enough to ensure that their woollen matches the sweater the dog wears.
Mind you, the men are well trained. They sense it when the dog has it coming. No, not the leg up; the squatting business. Depending on how intimate they are with each other, the men may take a close look at the drop. I understand they report the colour and the texture to the doctor. Medicine is in the details.
When you see the man pretending as if he does not know or care when the dog is doing what a dog must, you know he is a paid walker. The missing connect is so evident.
The lady in the nearby colony takes pride in the pretty things she knits. She once sold a nice red sweater for a 2-year old. For some strange reason, she was shocked to see a Pomeranian trotting in wearing that very piece of red, looking so very gorgeous against the white fleece. So, what?
Ladies in shops are all right but dentists are a pain. They are a dime a dozen for the humans but try getting a decent one home for the dog. What’s a dog without a good set of chompers? With frequent social engagement the norm, you can’t afford to raise a stink when you let out a hearty bark. No matter if you care not a bit for the bite but your bark must be sharp. So, if you do manage to find a dentist who can keep the pearlies shining and the tongue scraped, keep the chap on a tight leash. Otherwise you won’t find him when you need him.
Hair stylists are a better breed. They do a damn good job out here. At their place or yours. They trim and shine your hair and keep them nails neat. Only once have I seen them goof up and take a whole patch clean off a golden retriever. Just to cool tempers, the man companion had to shave all his hair off. Not fair compensation because the man hardly had much to begin with, whereas the retriever couldn’t call herself golden till she could retrieve all of her coat.
The schools too are getting better here. There was this Labrador with a bad throat. Poor thing couldn’t bark for a week. But that’s when the training kicked in. Whenever she wanted to express a point of view, she would give the leash a tug. He would look at her. Reading her need, he would simply clear his throat or cough. Though his bark did not have the bite of her bark, for a week, the compromise worked.
Then, there was this man who faithfully followed the Poodle with a scoop. He gathered every time she dropped. She must have swallowed something precious at home. Dogs are not much into laying golden eggs but you can always hope to recover your gold coin from the next drop.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go discourage that Pug from sullying my territory. Can’t afford to let your guard down for a minute. It’s a dog’s life.