The Radio 4 programme Heresy recently considered the question of why a dog doesn’t make a good pet. It was an interesting topic but as the panel consisted of various urban media pundits I got bored half way through and took the dog for a walk. Feel free to do the same but here are ten reasons why I think they do make good pets. (Dogs, that is, not media pundits which would be terribly inconvenient around the home.
1. They give you a sense of power. You have something to boss around. When the dog obeys instantly (about one time in ten) you get an enormous sense of achievement (offset by no one being around to witness it).
2. You have someone around who listens attentively to every word you say. Admittedly they’re scanning your output for key sounds such as “biscuit”, “tea” and “postman” but it’s a comforting illusion.
3. They provide exercise. This is a Good Thing, although it’s hard to convince yourself on wet days.
4. They can occasionally be trained to do useful things, e.g. find the television remote or shred letters with menacing windows.
5. They are entertaining. Training mine to growl whenever Chris Moyles appears on TV was one of the most useful seven hours I’ve ever spent.
6. They widen your social circle. I know the names of many dogs in my locality although I haven’t a clue what their owners are called.
7. They hoover up any embarrassing food you drop at dinner parties.
8. They teach you to become less materialistic. After they’ve eaten several of your favourite books and CDs you learn to become quite zen-like on the topic of worldly possessions.
9. They enable you to come to terms with the idea of mortality and death. Mostly by killing moths, worms, slugs and any small insects which stray into the kitchen. (I leave the door open a lot.)
10. They make you laugh. Well, mine does. And not always from a sense of hysterical panic.
And life with a dog is always interesting. For example, in the course of just one day my dog recently:
- ate a snail. The evidence was a silvery trail which stopped in the middle of the living room carpet. The offending mollusc had either unexpectedly evolved into a moth or my dog had enjoyed French cuisine.
- rearranged the garden pond. To do this he removed a vast chunk of weed and then ran into the kitchen to kill it.
- had a mud bath. Followed by a shower. Quickly followed by the owner having a shower when dog decided to shake himself dry.
- dismantled a spider. Said arachnid kept galloping across the lounge, hotly pursued by dog, who was curious to see how all the legs worked.
After all the activity, dog redeemed himself by going to sleep at my feet. He looked quite cute. Right up to the point when I noticed the missing sandwich …
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