Unfit to be tied

For a dog like me, leashes are a fact of life. But if I’m going to be on one end of that leash, there better be a human on the other end. Nothing is more demeaning than being tied up to a sign post or a street lamp, as if an inanimate object has better discretion than I do. At least I can tell the difference between my owner and a potential abductor. Tethered to a parking meter, I’m a sitting duck for any dognapper walking down the street. When a stranger tries to steal me, is the parking meter going to come to my defense? I don’t think so (when has a parking meter ever helped anybody?).

This is a real problem. You can’t go a month without reading a story in the paper about a dog that was stolen when his or her owner went into a store and left him or her outside. It would be nice to live in a world where we could trust others. Unfortunately, we don’t.

Here’s a little thought experiment: Ask yourself, “What would I be willing to leave out on a street unattended?” Your wallet or your purse? Your bicycle? A bag of groceries? I bet you answered “no” to all those questions. So if you don’t trust people not to take your bicycle, why would you trust them not to take your dog? It’s a lot harder to replace a dog than a bicycle. In fact, you can’t replace us; each dog is one of a kind!

Caution, a head!

When it comes to interior decoration, I’m no expert. As long as I have a comfy bed and a clean water bowl, I’m content. Paint the room any color you like; I’m color blind. But even I have to object when I see an animal’s head mounted on the wall. While relaxing at home, I prefer not to be reminded of decapitation.

Boy was I confused the first time I saw a mounted head. I thought a moose was sticking his head through a big hole in the wall. I said hello to the moose, but got no answer. Intrigued, I went into the next room. Imagine my surprise when instead of finding the rest of the moose, I found a refrigerator! Once I realized there is no such thing as moose/refrigerator hybrid, I got out of that house as fast as I could. I’ve seen those scary movies, I know what goes on, and I did not want to be next. That’s the last time I have dinner at Norman Bates’s house.

I’ve been talking with my cat neighbors about this peculiar human habit, and we can’t understand it. We’re going to have to call an anthropologist or psychiatrist to explain this custom to us. Although, something tells me there is no good explanation. Would you want to hang my head on the wall? How about my friend Fiero’s head?

Y’know, you can buy a picture of the entire animal, not just the head. I guarantee the picture will look a lot better than a creepy moose head with glued-on glass eyes.