As a dog owner, there is no avoiding it: over the course of many years of daily walking the dog, you inevitably get to know other dog owners and their dogs. And soon you realize that you are being forced into a group to become part of a strangely seeming community that follows its very own logic and engages in rituals.
Il ne fait rien
We have all heard the saying “He doesn’t do anything”, or we have used it ourselves. What else can you say when the dog is unleashed and is really keen to spur cyclists on to speed up or jump up at others because of sheer philanthropy, when you know that the energetically ordered “I HAVE ALREADY SAYED YOU 1000 TIMES, YOU SHOULD DO IT LET IT BE, “actually never brought anything anyway.
When the puppy was handed over or when the animal shelter dog was handed over to the new home, the “do-nothing” sentence seems to have been smuggled in somewhere in the welcome package and from there it is self-contained and firmly established in the human language. Incidentally, it is not typically German. It’s also available in other languages. In France, a happy “Il ne fait rien” came to greet me when I tried to pluck the intact horny male from my good-smelling castrato.
Is that a male?
Whether you like it or not, you definitely come into contact with other dog owners, and the process of these conversations somehow follows a secret code.
While Herrchen is planting in front of you, blocking every escape route and countering discreet retreat with insensitive advancement, he first asks a little suspiciously: “Is that a male ???”
The content of this question is roughly equivalent to the English “How are you?”. An answer is not really expected, because no matter which one you come up with, the conversation almost always takes the same, apparently fixed course with further quickly timed questions and statements:
Is he or she castrated / in heat / dominant / large and black / young / something like a fighting dog / stubborn / smart / sluggish / eaten / lively because of a certain breed …
In the end, however, the other person almost always comes to the conclusion that there is nothing standing in the way of the dogs playing together – a little bit, despite the fact that the strange dog has long since decided to hang his teeth and roar on the leash and you yourself are quite certain that it is not really a game prompt gesture and that it seems more like polishing your face.
They already settle that among themselves
But, of course, a verbal herb has also grown against it: “He only does it on a leash,” is the guaranteed confident, jovial explanation for the outraged behavior of the mob and that it would be much easier without a leash. Because:
“They already regulate this among themselves” and “just briefly clarify the hierarchy, after all, they are dogs”.
There is no doubt: you know your way around, after all you can look back on 30 years of dog experience.
If you then reject the offer despite all the friendly efforts of the person opposite and start to run backwards, you will often hear a disappointed “poor dog! He must have social contacts! ”Afterwards.
In the future, you will no longer need to show up at the local dog gas club – where 10 adults are deeply immersed in spray lines over splashing water bottles, while their 15 dogs bullying across the meadow so nicely and clarifying everything among themselves. The call “Look, this is the one who doesn’t want their dogs to play with others, who thinks that with their stupid clicks, that’s something special” rushes ahead forever.
Fortunately, this is a pain to bear, after all, you will meet new dog owners (and their wisdom) everywhere.
If you walk with your dog on a leash and ask another dog owner to leash your dog, you can bet almost a monthly salary that you will ALWAYS reap an uncomprehending or stubborn look, followed by a “He just wants to play!” Most of the time, not even the tired attempt to retrieve the dog, to pick it up, let alone on a leash.
Tips for free
There is confusion on Herrchen’s forehead when one mentions that it may be that the other person only wants to play, but his own (leashed) dog, which slowly switches to combat mood mode as the other approaches, does not like to play would like, but would rather need some distance.
Good advice is usually expensive, but at the time of this conversation, luckily, it is a) completely safe and b) as safe as breathing in the church, because now the owner is back on familiar terrain and advises: You should go to a dog school visit and definitely show the dog who the boss would be.
The only well-functioning measure in the search for distance from recall-resistant tutuses and their instructive people is to wear a muzzle with your own dog. Suddenly, big bows and the hectic calling of your own dog are no longer a problem. That works great.
Yes, the world of dog people is somehow as original as many dogs themselves. I honestly have no answer to why this is so.
Dogs on a leash not a coincidence?
Personally, I’m too lazy to give good advice to strangers, so I just keep my dogs on a leash and step aside when a leashed dog comes towards us.
Sometimes I also think something like: Does that have a reason why it’s on a leash? Could he be sick? Newly operated? Distance from other needs? Has fleas? Is it too stormy? Afraid? Escape?
Then I have the vague idea that every dog on a leash may be on a leash for certain reasons and not just out of jokes and jerks. I’m not asking for it. I endure that somewhat stoically. As I said, I’m too lazy to mouth.
I also don’t force my dogs’ super social contact with anyone. I think to myself that otherwise they will have enough social contact if they don’t want to let their dog in with us. Or maybe not. But it’s not my job to decide that for you.
I’m also too stingy to pay cleaning for other people’s mud-encrusted pants. And now and then a flash of inspiration penetrates my dog-loving brain, which gives me the impression that there may be people who are incomprehensibly not so good with dogs, who may even be afraid and who are not so keen on it, sniffed, licked off or to be jumped on.
Consideration out of sheer laziness
I personally find this admittedly quite difficult to understand, there is nothing better than the drooling drool kiss of a dog.
But still very rarely a tiny touch of empathy creeps up on me. And that’s why I call my dogs to the side, comfortably as I am, when other walkers or cyclists come. The dogs then wait there and look forward to their treats. Amazingly, people are often very relieved and thank you. They are really weird.
But what the heck, I said, I’m a lazy simpleton. Anything else would be far too complex and complicated for me personally.