Having been told that sometimes, in so far as posts here go, I need to get over myself…and not knowing exactly which posts that applies to, I thought, rather than let the weeds grow (as I have for the past 3 weeks or so) I’ll put up another column I wrote for the Esquimalt News way back in 2005. It was during yet another debate about a dangerous dog by-law triggered by a testosterone fueled owner trying to fabricate some street-cred with a dog he couldn’t control.
“A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down.” Robert Benchley
Over the years I have been blessed with the companionship of a wide variety of God’s creatures and can’t think of an animal I find repulsive or unworthy of kindness and consideration. I came to the realization some time ago, however, that were I lost in the woods I wouldn’t know an edible plant from bear poop. Yet even a survival yutz like myself can recognize a food source when it comes hippity hopping down the woodland trail.
okay, maybe not any bunny...
The cold, black hearted truth of the matter is I would hold out as long as possible but if it came down to starvation or taking out Peter Cottontail…
I am a pragmatist when it comes to our furry, feathered, scaled and web-footed friends. And a realist when it comes to the dinner table.
Animals have many noble qualities but in reality have few interests at heart other than their own basic needs. I may like to think my cat is purring because she loves me but realistically she finds my lap warmer and softer than the floor. She also knows if she stays close to me she is more
likely to catch my attention when I walk past the kibble bin. Affection, maybe, and even loyalty in that I am part of her territory but love? No, love is what I have for her and for my family.
We love our animals because it is part of the deal sealed back in the before-time. Animals fed, clothed and protected us when we were still getting used to the walking upright thing. It was a good arrangement for our side and we have kept the critters around so long many of them can’t survive now without us. In return for their loyalty and trust, it is our turn to feed and protect them.
The small, cute and cuddly ones that don’t smell a lot and can be taught to use a litter box or the neighbor’s lawn for a bathroom we take into our homes and our hearts. Yes, I 
know autumn isn’t complete without the heartbreaking picture of 4-h star Sally Smith sucking back the tears as her blue-ribboned, hand raised steer—the one she weaned herself and spent freezing mornings in the barn nursing through some viral infection and secretly named Wally even though Dad said never name the animals—is led away by Mr. SuperMart to become part of their prime rib and hamburger display.
But in general, pet stores make their profit margin on kitties, puppies and budgies and the food these wee beasts eat in remarkable quantities.
This is not a bad thing, understand, it is part of the deal. The problem with thinking of animals as having human emotions is not that a cocker spaniel can turn a grown man to mush with it’s big brown eyes and woeful expression. The problem is we decide that if they can love, then they must be human enough to hate. This is the thinking behind calling a certain breed of dog dangerous because that is part of its inherent nature.
The dog is not dangerous. I’ve met pit bulls that let children ride them like ponies. I’ve met cocker spaniels I wouldn’t approach unless I was wearing kevlar body armor. Of course there are certain breeds that have aggressive tendencies but that is not the same as being vicious. A Labrador Retriever will bite given sufficient provocation and a German Shepherd will sit patiently as a kitten plays between her front feet, if it’s been trained properly. No, the viciousness comes from the human who thinks it is neat to have a dog with the reputation of a killer.
There are dangerous dog by-laws all across the country. Saskatchewan has a provincial statute that wisely penalizes any dog owner that actively encourages aggressive behavior in their pet. Elsewhere, it has been determined that certain breeds are inherently dangerous and are banned from the area. Now there is an underground railroad smuggling the poor beasts out of these places but it won’t solve the problem anymore than prohibition cut down on cirrhosis.
Every so often the balloon is floated around Esquimalt about a similar by-law, usually after reports from other regions of a family pet or a defenseless child being mauled or even killed by uncontrolled dogs. There is no argument that those particular dogs have become dangerous and should be euthanized. The human who was supposed to be in control of those animals, however, should be charged with assault or even manslaughter: the responsibility is theirs just as surely as if they got in a car and ran the child down.
Perhaps what is required is to license people who wish to own a dog. Just as with drivers licenses, certain categories of dog breeds would require a certain proficiency and understanding of what responsible ownership entails. Anyone wishing to own a poodle or shitzu, for instance, would be required to swear never to dye it pink or be allowed to put a bow in it’s hair when walking the animal in public places.
Dogs that have inherent aggressive tendencies, such as Dobermans, Pit Bulls, German
Shepherds and boutique guard breeds like Presa Canarios (a Hummer sized pit bull) would have to pass the equivalent of an air brake ticket, in animal training and psychology, before taking the puppy home. Even smaller breeds like Dachsunds, originally bred to hunt badgers, require a certain familiarity with the background of the breed and potential problems it may pose – especially if you bear an unfortunate resemblance to a badger.
The bottom line is this, when I approach a dog I don’t know, I take a look at the owner before I put my hand out and it is never the dog that scares me.