A persistent story in local papers focusses on The Great Dog Culture Divide. I don’t know what percentage of all the space in local papers is taken up with dog controversy stories but it’s not negligible.
There was a letter in a local paper late last summer about why dogs should not be allowed on beaches. “I reminded one lady of the regulation [about picking up after recreating pets] and she said, ‘I pick up after my dog. I said, ‘We pick up solids from our cat’s litter box, but I would not expect you to lie down in the box.’”
The writer concluded: “Dogs do not belong on any beach where humans sunbathe. I personally do not want to sit or lie in someone’s dog sandbox…even after the solids have been removed.”
Good point, graphically made, I thought. But then I don’t own a dog.
The human race can be divided many ways—mountains vs. ocean vacationers, folders vs. scrunchers of toilet paper, those ashamed (or not) of belonging to the same species as Rush Limbaugh. But one of the most interesting is dog owners vs. non-dog owners.
And it’s not peaceful coexistence. Hence all the stories in the paper of constant friction between the two cultures. Dogs should or should not be allowed on this or that beach. Dogs should always be on a leash. Dogs should be allowed to run free on this or that beach. Dog owners do or do not clean up after their pets. That pit bull should be put down for mauling that kid vs. “don’t blame the dog, it’s the owner’s fault.” And on and on.
Ten thousand years into our long association with domesticated wolves, a large portion of us own dogs; an even larger p ortion of us don’t. According to the Humane Society about two-thirds of Americans manage to get along without what one-third considers an indispensable accoutrement to life. To many of the one-third it goes deeper than that. Dogs provide a form of companionship not even available with fellow humans, a life-affirming connection.
To the rest of us, not so much. Dogs often represent loud noise, unwanted attention, and the real possibility of being bitten. The Wikipedia article estimates that 2% of the population, or 4.7 million people, get bitten every year. Only 26 fatalities result from those bites (on average the last few years). But still…
Here’s a stab at how the two sides of the dog culture divide look at each other:
To dog people non-dog people are : uptight, untrusting, and downright heartless– at least those who fail the test of enjoying the attentions of their dog. What’s wrong with people who just don’t get it about dogs? There’s obviously a huge chunk missing from their souls.
To the dogless dog people are : needy (otherwise why would they put up with the indignity of following along behind their companion picking up poop); bossy (they must love getting to say “down boy,” “fetch,” “no, Bowser, heel boy” and all the other classics of dog conversation); and insensitive (“Oh it’s fine. My dog jumping up on you is just his way of saying howdy”).
At least some have skewed priorities. There was a story in the paper last October about how dog owners were organizing to influence San Francisco politics. Since dogs outnumber children 150, 000 to 108,000, the thinking goes, when it comes to budget conflicts it’s only democratic to push city government to put the welfare of your dog over that of your neighbors’ children.
San Francisco aside, what about the politics of dog-owning? How does the left/right dichotomy map onto dog/nondog? Despite what you might think would be a 2-1 advantage for the non-dog candidate, According to Wikipedia’s survey of White House p ets, dog-owning (like baby-kissing) is de rigueur for presidential hopefuls of either party.
Both constituencies are too large for the other to ignore but peaceful co-existence is not in the cards either. With spring and a renewal of the battle for the beaches, we may expect more stories of the dysfunctional dog culture divide.
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