8/26/07
“Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.”
-- Galsworthy, on dogs
Memories, 1914
“I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven’t got the guts to bite people themselves.”
-- August Strindberg
A Madman’s Diary
Some years ago one of the neighbors left an anonymous letter in my mailbox complaining about my dog’s barking. The language contained a trailer dialect I was unfamiliar with. Was it Bellevillian or Ypsituckian? After deciphering exactly what this three toed, banjo player’s problem was, I decided to buy a shock collar for Shadow. However, before visiting this corrective on my canine, I wanted to make sure the therapy was humane. After all, I live in Ann Arbor, where the very thought of doing this would be tantamount to joining Mike Vick’s posse. Even now, when telling this story, I am greeted with dagger-like stares of moral outrage, the likes of which no God-fearing man, woman, or child outside the borders of Washtenaw County should ever have to suffer. But tell it I must. Yes, I, your humble cat doo-doo eatin daddy, decided to try the collar on. Yikes! This particular accessory consists of a strap on collar, black or red. Attached to the strap is a small, black, rectangular box. The collar fits in such a way that the snuggly fitting strap presses a small metal stud, which protrudes from the box, into the dog’s trachea. The stud is, of course, connected to a battery in the box, which, when stimulated, delivers an eye-popping jolt to any hapless barker who happens to be wearing it at the time. Laughingly, and after having quaffed a few judgment suds, I strapped on the collar and commenced, through various degrees of yowling, to test the infernal device. It didn’t take long for me to achieve that cruel, imperfect pitch which sent me to my knees. Mine was now a pitiful scream for mercy, a blood-curdling, mournful cry unlike any this neighborhood has ever heard. I tried it on Shadow for a day, and as I listened to her sad, twisted howls, I asked myself, is this dog, this noble mastiff, best friend of man, rescuer of alpine mountaineers, saver of drowning Labrador swimmers, sniffer outer of cancers and boxcutters, finder of truffles, leader of the blind, this loyal companion who has faithfully kept my secrets and borne my many abuses and injustices, trying to tell me something?
SHADOW’S LAMENT
Don’t make me wear the collar of correction
I didn’t mean to bark like that last night
Give me one more chance
I’ll find a new direction
This old hound will disappear from sight
Do you remember on the day you brought me home dear
Your old daddy said that I would be a test
Now you’re shocking me at will
Even though I’m sittin still
Please take it off and I won’t be a pest
If you catch me eating trash
You can give this dog a thrash
If I chew your shoe
Confine me to my cage
Won’t you keep that thing away
Lectric torture’s inhumane
I’ll report you to the SPC2A
If we come back in another life I’ll get you
Even though in this one I’m your loyal friend
You will wear a collar too
All that yappin that you do
Will result in words that have a shocking end!
“Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.”
-- Galsworthy, on dogs
Memories, 1914
“I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven’t got the guts to bite people themselves.”
-- August Strindberg
A Madman’s Diary
Some years ago one of the neighbors left an anonymous letter in my mailbox complaining about my dog’s barking. The language contained a trailer dialect I was unfamiliar with. Was it Bellevillian or Ypsituckian? After deciphering exactly what this three toed, banjo player’s problem was, I decided to buy a shock collar for Shadow. However, before visiting this corrective on my canine, I wanted to make sure the therapy was humane. After all, I live in Ann Arbor, where the very thought of doing this would be tantamount to joining Mike Vick’s posse. Even now, when telling this story, I am greeted with dagger-like stares of moral outrage, the likes of which no God-fearing man, woman, or child outside the borders of Washtenaw County should ever have to suffer. But tell it I must. Yes, I, your humble cat doo-doo eatin daddy, decided to try the collar on. Yikes! This particular accessory consists of a strap on collar, black or red. Attached to the strap is a small, black, rectangular box. The collar fits in such a way that the snuggly fitting strap presses a small metal stud, which protrudes from the box, into the dog’s trachea. The stud is, of course, connected to a battery in the box, which, when stimulated, delivers an eye-popping jolt to any hapless barker who happens to be wearing it at the time. Laughingly, and after having quaffed a few judgment suds, I strapped on the collar and commenced, through various degrees of yowling, to test the infernal device. It didn’t take long for me to achieve that cruel, imperfect pitch which sent me to my knees. Mine was now a pitiful scream for mercy, a blood-curdling, mournful cry unlike any this neighborhood has ever heard. I tried it on Shadow for a day, and as I listened to her sad, twisted howls, I asked myself, is this dog, this noble mastiff, best friend of man, rescuer of alpine mountaineers, saver of drowning Labrador swimmers, sniffer outer of cancers and boxcutters, finder of truffles, leader of the blind, this loyal companion who has faithfully kept my secrets and borne my many abuses and injustices, trying to tell me something?
SHADOW’S LAMENT
Don’t make me wear the collar of correction
I didn’t mean to bark like that last night
Give me one more chance
I’ll find a new direction
This old hound will disappear from sight
Do you remember on the day you brought me home dear
Your old daddy said that I would be a test
Now you’re shocking me at will
Even though I’m sittin still
Please take it off and I won’t be a pest
If you catch me eating trash
You can give this dog a thrash
If I chew your shoe
Confine me to my cage
Won’t you keep that thing away
Lectric torture’s inhumane
I’ll report you to the SPC2A
If we come back in another life I’ll get you
Even though in this one I’m your loyal friend
You will wear a collar too
All that yappin that you do
Will result in words that have a shocking end!
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