Much care needs to be taken with what I am about to reveal. No, not a self absorbed gender party, but similar. Before I impart this knowledge onto you I need first to set the stage. I have a dog, a black lab. Well a black lab-ish. A pure breed black lab-ish. He is mostly lab or at least does a very good impression of one. He looks like a lab mostly except there is a whiff of family scandal in some of his features. This suits me just fine as I simply wanted a larger dog for the family. No offense to him but pickings were slim. I wanted a good natured dog who would also offer some protection. I got this and more with him.
That part is not as important as the next bit which could socially ruin me. And by socially ruin me I am implying I have a high enough social status to fall from. It wouldn’t be much of a fall. I might actually have to get a step stool to fall down, but that’s not the point. Pregnant pause. I got him off Kijiji. He doesn’t have any papers and he doesn’t even have a grand name unless you count the ones containing swear words I yell every time he steals food off the counter. Shocked? Has your opinion of me changed? Not by my swearing, but my kijiji confession?
There was a time when people who wanted to adopt a pet went to the animal shelter or perhaps they saw a sign scrawled in just legible writing “Puppies to give away” or “Pups 4 sale”. In these parts, that doesn’t seem to exist. In this well-to-do area we seem to have lost our minds concerning canines. People carry their dogs in strollers and carriers strapped to their bodies. For those things I won’t judge. People thrive with the company and if that brings them happiness or relief then have at it, Doggy Bjorn. It is the introductions and implied mindset I judge, and judge harshly.
Purebreds have found their niche here. Big, little, fluffy or cropped – purebreeds abound. Dog walkers run eight dogs at a time – dobermans, golden retrievers, German short haired pointers leaping gracefully with their pedigree seen in every rippling muscle. Clearly beautiful dogs. Where are the shelter dogs? The nameless dogs with no pedigree? The dogs that leave us wondering and discussing over coffee (timmy’s for those with -ish dogs. The starbucks drinkers just dropped their dogs off at the doggy daycare as they sipped their soy latte, whipped, no fat, with just a hint of cinnamon and a generous dollop of pretension) what background gives them their long body, wrinkly forehead and short nose? Dogs that illicit wild guesses of their parentage. The dogs that are such a gem that we marvel at this fortunate blend of genetics to produce such a fine champion.
There is a real snobbery about dogs at times. There are such exotic breeds I have been fooled many times by asking someone the dog’s breed and received as an answer something that sounds like a European HSFSAIdnshound. Or something like this. Trying to avoid being singled out as a mutt myself, I nod knowingly while spreading my fingers as much as possible to cover my Timmy’s cup.
It is not that there are no mixed breeds here. There are a few, but they aren’t recognized as mixed breeds. They are now “rescues” from Greece, Texas, and even the Cayman Islands. They aren’t even a mutt from the Caymen Islands. Rescues. On a couple of occasions I have met people walking two dogs, one almost dragging his impressive pedigree behind him and the other with not quite as much baggage. When asked the breed, the owners have said with a tone of the pious, “He’s a rescue”. It is as if they need to justify the lack of pedigree. It’s okay that he isn’t the result of years of careful selection, because we have rescued him from a fate worse than death. We did that. We are civilizing him with our generosity and good will. Modern missionaries.
If you doubt me I throw down this challenge to you. The next time you see a suspicious dog skulking about, ask the owner about the breed. Said owner may even place one hand preciously on chest and declare, “He’s a rescue”. And if you listen carefully, you might hear the rest – “because I’m a morally superior person who has a saviour complex and I need the complete strangers to know this and while I can’t outrightly tell people this I do it surreptitiously while walking the neighbourhood. Please ask me, please”.
Mixed breeds can not be tolerated so what should the socially conscious do to remedy this contradiction? They create the terripoos, the bugs and the bermedoodles. These are not true breeds. They are by essence mutts, but that doesn’t sell for thousands so a seemingly endless list of doodles and schitzpoos are revealed. And all lovely dogs. It’s a shame about the ostentation. Doodles of all kinds, bugs, terripoos – must give this tiny bundle of fur a title. And then sold for ridiculous costs for a dog that used to be a dime a dozen at a local animal shelter. Elevated and made worthy with a title. A made up title.
I suppose I have rescued my dog too. Rescued him from languishing on kijiji to be scrolled over and left behind in favour of a new hammock for my lazy afternoons of deep personal reflection and meditation. Yes, I did that.
With my first trip to the vet, I might as well have brought an alien to the appointment. My first mistake was acknowledging where I “adopted” but really bought my dog. The vet, who prefers to be called Dr, barely managed to keep his eyes from rolling in his head. He pondered aloud how we would not know his exact age, how big he would grow, his behaviour. He was quite perplexed. And I was quite ashamed. I had taken my money and purchased a dog who seemed healthy and happy and brought him into my home without….a title. We changed vets shortly after. Our new vet does not seem bogged down by mutt suspicions at all.
I have to go. “The rescue” just pilfered a loaf of bread off the counter and needs a walk.
