As a runner, I have had countless experiences with bad pet owners. Many of the times I never actually meet the pet owners, just the fallout from their bad ownership, their beloved pets. At best, the encounter entails being barked by a dog in a yard that is restrained by the owner at the last minute, and at worst, a dog flat out pursues me, snarling and growling, intending to harm me.
Recently a dog came about 6 inches from getting smoked by a passing car, as it was so focused on getting a piece of me that it crossed into traffic. A few months ago, when I was out on a neighborhood bike ride with my two young kids, an old German Shepherd came charging out of his garage and bounded toward us. I hopped off my bike and thought “alright kids, enjoy watching your dad get mauled by a large dog as I attempt to protect you, this will make for a wonderful childhood memory”. Luckily an alert neighbor called out to the beast and jogged over, grabbing ahold of its collar, while cheerfully assuring me that the snarling dog was very friendly and just loved kids. Sure, just like every other dog that takes a bite out of strangers. I suppose I need to consider carrying a weapon when I’m out in Mayberry on a bike ride.
The death of responsible pet ownership seems to have coincided with the death of responsible parenting. I have acquaintances on social media that consider their pets children. In many cases, these people are unable or unwilling to have kids, so I get it. There are countless pictures and videos posted of animals doing something cute, silly, or charming. Sometimes they are actually dressed in clothes, like furry little kids. Sometimes they are checked-in at an expensive groomer or a 5 star kennel / spa where they are pampered for the weekend while their “parents” are out of town. I have seen dogs incorporated into weddings.
As a dog lover, having grew up with dogs and owned a wonderful dog as an adult, I have no problem with any of this. I understand the strong feelings people have towards their pets. Although I never pretended that my dog was a human being, I loved him a great deal and took great care of them. Part of that care entailed training them not to intimidate and / or hurt people.
The dog that I owned was a gorgeous Doberman, an over-sized rust and tan that weighed 110 lbs. Even though I met his parents, had certified pedigree papers, and knew he was a purebred Dobe, I swore that he was part Rottweiler because he was so enormous. Understanding that he was going to be a huge dog (witnessing him clumsily trying to maneuver his oversized paws as a puppy) and a breed that had an aggressive reputation, I enrolled him in obedience school as soon as soon as he was old enough. I spent hours with him at the school, as well as additional hours on my own training him. Beyond enforcing general obedience, I also never fed him table scraps, did not allow him to beg, and did not allow him to sleep in the same bed with me (to be fair, I also impose these same rules upon my kids).
So once my dog was fully grown, he was well behaved. He didn’t drag me down the street when I walked him, he didn’t rear up like a wild horse when we passed others on the sidewalk, and he didn’t nearly choke himself to death trying to interact with other dogs. He really didn’t need a leash, because he stuck close by me when we went out and understood what the word “heel” meant. And yet he was always leashed, every single time. He never chased another human being or animal. He never ran into traffic. He never snarled or snapped at people. I never put his leash in the hands of someone that couldn’t control him if, by some chance, he decided to bolt (unlike the owner of that Golden Retriever who let his child walk it, with the dog ripping the leash out of the child’s hand when the dog decided it didn’t appreciate me running down his street).
I’m not sharing all of this to brag about what a wonderful pet owner I was. I am sharing this because I was merely a pet owner who was meeting the minimal standards of pet ownership – training a dog that did not inconvenience or endanger others. If the effort I put into training him seems unusual, that is indicative of how far our standards of good pet ownership have fallen. I invested hundreds of dollars buying him and thousands feeding and caring for him throughout his 10 years of life, so investing a comparatively small amount of money and effort into making him a good dog was commonsensical.
Beyond protecting the public, there is also another important reason for training him; my dog deserved it. He deserved to have the pride of being a good dog. He deserved to have people admire him for being a good dog. People loved him and wanted to be around him. Friends and family were happy to babysit him. The kennel employees enjoyed watching him for the weekend when I had to board him, because he didn’t present them with any problems. Therefore, he was almost universally treated kindly. All dogs deserve this kindness.
Beyond the safety aspects, you should want your animal to be loved, and not simply tolerated because your friends and family care about you. A well-behaved pet will simply have a happier life. We have all dealt with the misbehaving dog of an acquaintance, and suppressed the urge to give it a little push or kick when the owner left the room, following an uncomfortable duration where it tried licking your hands and face over and over or put its head in your lap to beg for food while you are attempting to eat.
Raising an undisciplined dog does not benefit anyone, especially the pet. Allowing it to run free puts the pet in peril, and can result in the pet getting injured by a startled stranger, attacked by another animal, hit by a car, or otherwise hurt in some other way is cruel. Your dog deserves better and you can’t expect an animal to train itself. You took on the responsibility so own up to it.
Sensus Communis 