(Side note: One of the cock’s owners cried when his rooster died. I just
don’t see how you could breed something to fight and then cry when it dies, but
I think that contradiction of character does say a lot about men. I have no
interest in learning what that is, though.)
Now, as I got to thinking about dogs, and how much I like them, and how much
I don’t like people who hate them, I came to realize that Jules from Pulp
Fiction was right: personality does go a long way. I mean, you can’t even
call a dog filthy even though he eats his own feces. Because a dog has
personality. Now if you, whoever you are, ate your own feces, I would call you
filthy. That’s how much personality dogs have. And that’s why everyone’s so
pissed.
"Most of us think that people who would breed dogs for
fighting are just plain fucked in the head."
Leonard Little, a linebacker
for the St. Louis Rams, once got drunk, drove and killed a woman.
He missed one season. They say Vick’ll be lucky to get a one
season suspension. And nobody, not one person, died.
That’s how much people like dogs.
They have Prozac for dogs, shrinks for dogs, outfits for dogs and breath
mints for dogs. If any of you out there think that your dog needs any of those
items, you are either a total douche or your dog has the nastiest breath this
side of the Mississippi. People who love their dogs find a lot of ways, stupid
and twisted or otherwise, to care for their dogs.
We whip horses (and by we, I mean those of us who’ve ever had to whip a
horse) to make them go faster, we ride bulls (again, not me per se, but you get
the drift), we behead and devour all kinds of animals for food and nourishment
and some of us even punt cats for fun (probably not me). But we revere dogs.
No animal in America gets a better life than a well cared for dog. In fact, I
think that if you’re lucky in this life, you either come back as a smoking hot
rich chick or a well cared for dog. Unless of course, reincarnation doesn’t
exist.
And, because we care so much about the little quadrupeds, we react with anger
when dogs are bred to fight each other. We don’t like it. We think it’s mean.
Most of us cannot see why anyone would do it. Most of us think that people who
would breed dogs for fighting are just plain fucked in the head. But of course,
most of us are predisposed to like dogs.
Take me for example.
I hate PETA. I think they’re a bunch of whiny pansies who have way too much
time on their hands. But when they jumped all over this dog fighting thing, I
got their backs.
But then I got to thinking, maybe there are a lot of people out there who
don’t like dogs. Maybe it’s a societal perception of dog loving that is causing
those who don’t appreciate the livelihoods of dogs to suffer unfairly. Maybe no
one should get to say which animals we are allowed to brutally kill. Maybe, just
maybe, our collective perception overrates this crime.
And then I started thinking about
all the dogs in my life and how much I loved them. And then I realized that
societal perceptions can suck a lemon.
Dogs, for whatever reason, deserve better.
It’s just one of those things we know to be true.
Like Cheetos.
