It looks like a canine, but is it really a dog?
The other day my friend Ann and I acquired a new--and in my view,
dysfunctional--dog. We had wanted (well, I only sort of wanted) to
buy a new dog since the old one died, and in preparation had looked at
all of the videos of the American Kennel Club. (I don't recommend that,
by the way; after a while it ceases to be of compelling interest to
hear how high a dog stands in the "withers," whatever they are.)
Now, to the AKC, all dogs are intrinsically good, so a monster that
will shred your friends is described as "reserved with strangers."
However, we did find three dogs that seemed to satsify our list of
requirements (no barking, no biting, no birdbrain, short acrylic hair
and light-weight): a Finnish Spitz, a Portuguese waterdog and a
Labrador (a Labrador lite is what we really wanted).
So why did we end up with a dysfunctional dog that runs around in
circles at breakneck speed, if she is not howling on top of her
doghouse? Because of impulse buying.
My attitude toward dogs is ambivalent. I love their boundless
admiration for us--they're like our children ought to be--but I am
wary of their sloppiness. Most of them hate rugs, and some of them
beslobber the ceiling and walls--I know, I used to own a 150-pound
Newfoundland called "Bear". Dogs also can be quite neurotic: Bear
was afraid of stop signs. He'd lie down and refuse to go on when he
spotted one.
You'll understand that, given this background, I was, shall we say,
less than fully committed to my friend's dog replacement plan. Still,
I didn't want to come across as an insensitive dog hater, so I resorted
to the "exhaustive planning" strategy. I'd learned this strategy from
my dentist in Chicago, who managed to stave off kitchen renovation
forever by exhaustive planning (We really want to do this right,
honey!). I figured further research on our three dog breeds would
take up years, especially if I used the Internet. And if worse came
to worse, I thought, where would you find a Portuguese waterdog in Iowa?
Not to mention a miniature Labrador.
Well, as you guessed, my strategy crashed when my friend--who is
otherwise a rational woman, but with holistic tendencies--found this
dysfunctional dog. "It looks like a Spitz," she said over the phone,
"I think we'd better buy it, you don't find that kind often in Iowa."
What could I do? But I don't think it's a Spitz at all. Unless they
have yellow eyes, prowl through flower beds and howl at the moon.
At Random - Adrian Korpel
