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In the dog house
In America, over eight million cats and dogs are abandoned each year and more than half are destroyed. In Australia it’s 200,000 per year, which works out at 547 animals per day.
That said, my dogs are two of the most important people in my life. I would throw myself in front of a car to save them, which is why I find it so hard to understand the regularity of news stories about cruelty to animals.
My boyfriend and I have photos of our dogs and whip them out whenever someone shows a lick of interest.
“This is Dylan McDermutt – he’s a princess. And this is Lizzie Dogsworth – she’s such a lesbian.”
My boyfriend and I are the epitome of the term D.I.L.D.O. (double income, little dogs only). Dylan is partial to a massage on the arse and chest. He arches his back and pokes his delicate little tongue out as his eyes roll back in his head. Lizzie loves a tit tickle and slobbers all over your face whenever you stop. Their unconditional love means they are perfect for anyone.
Animals don’t judge a book by its cover. Rub them and feed them and they will be your friend for life. They’re happy to see you morning, noon and night (or even when I get home at 3 am), and they have a sixth sense for recoveries. When we get home at 10 am from a dance party, they know they are going to get intense attention and a rather frenetic rub like never before.
As I write this, Lizzie is stretched out on the floor with her head resting on my foot as she licks my ugg boot and Dylan is guarding the front door, barking at any passers-by, thinking he’s of Great Dane proportions but is clearly a 5 kilo Maltese x Shitzu.
(He does watch his figure and never overeats, sometimes I worry that he’s anna-rex-ic). When he wants a drink he stands by the pot plant then excitedly follows you into the kitchen where a full bowl of water has to be emptied and refilled because he will only drink fresh water. He takes the long way around the park because he doesn’t like to walk on rough grass – such a poof.
I guess I’m banging on like a proud parent but for so many of us, this is our family and although they’re cute and cuddly when they’re pups, they are a huge responsibility (a bit more than a fish and slightly cheaper than a child). We walk our kids twice a day and I’ll often take them with me rather than leave them alone in the laundry.
With the figures I quoted at the top of the column, there are still those that don’t understand the responsibility. If you can’t walk, run, love and share your life with a pet then support the R.S.P.C.A. or Monica’s Dog Rescue. Remember a dog is not just for Christmas, you can dress them up for Mardi Gras as well.
Mitzi Macintosh
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