Dogs and me

Before I begin, I must say that I don't hate animals. But I certainly have no natural tendency to pick up one and cuddle with it either.

I do believe that every animal has its right to its freedom. I hate caging animals. I also do believe that keeping animals that really should belong in the wild in the confines of a home is not right. I also hate any type of cruelty to animals. I was raised as a strict vegetarian and I raise my child the same way, not because of religious restrictions, but rather because the thought of killing an animal to have a meal bothers me at the bottom of my stomach.

Having said all the above, the things that bothers me the most about dogs is that they come after me, lick me, sometimes bark at me and what not. I don't like any of this. I never see wild deer (a common sight from my backyard and bedroom) do that. They look at me like I could be coming after them or something. I look at their doe-eyes, feel amused, wave to them, sometimes insanely trying to tell them that I am indeed a nice person who doesn't believe in hurting them. No, they don't try to reply to me, instead they flee. Now, with dogs it is quite different. At times I feel that the humans have domesticated the dogs s much that the dogs can no longer stand the fact that there could be human beings who don't want to come near them, who don't like their salivating mouths or their sniffs. The dogs seem to sincerely believe that the job of every human being is to adore the dogs, play with them and amuse them. And the dog owners think the same way.

I live in a neighborhood where there is no leash law for dogs. Moreover, we have a number of nature trails and green-belt area surrounding us that are welcoming grounds for dog owners from all of Austin, practically. Our neighborhood played host to quite a few dog walks, which is like a marathon for dogs, done for a cause; except that this is not a competition.

One evening, I decided to go on a walk. It was a bit late for other neighbors to be wandering around. For some reason, our neighborhood does not have too many children playing during evening hours. May be they are all too studious, have homeworks to complete or perhaps they play in some other neighborhood. My daughter, who I was hoping would walk with me, decided to use her bicycle and enjoy the ride, rather than the slow walk when her mom could use the time to bug her about various things. When I must have been barely 200 yards from my house, I saw this black dog, the kind of dog that Harry Potter readers would naturally think it is the Grimm. The dog was not only leashless, it was also ownerless. He seemed to know the place so well that he did not look around to think that he was lost. That is, until he saw me. My natural reaction was to talk to him and ask him to stay away from me. The funny thing is that the more I told the dog to stay away from me, the more he wanted to come upon me. He started doing the usual dog things, licking, wagging the tail, circling me in spite of my not wanting to be anywhere close to him. I even screamed. He still did not get a clue that I didn't want him near me, or perhaps he demanded that I as a human being had no option but to play with him. After about 5 min of screaming (seemed like an eon though!) and dog-dancing, I saw the car of a neighbor. Obviously, she was a dog owner and knew exactly what to do with a lost dog. She looked for the information on his collar, called the owner and also made sure he got into her car. What a relief! Perhaps no one relates to my feeling. After all this, my ten-year-old made her appearance on her bicycle, after circling the neighborhood. As it turned out, this dog had decided to take a walk all by himself. Well, if he decided to be so independent, I wonder why he wanted my company? I always wonder what dogs think about human beings.