Why is it that people have a preference for certain types of dogs? What draws us to them? How can someone adore one dog and despise another? Even though a person has a dislike for one breed over another, how could a self-proclaimed “dog-lover” not have the best interest of any dog in mind in any given situation?
As background information, I have two daughters. They each have a dog. Daughter “A,” my step-daughter, has a tiny, long haired, hot dog type; Daughter “B,” my birth child is a lover of larger dogs. She has a Labrador mix. Daughter “A” doesn’t like big dogs; Daughter “B” doesn’t like small dogs. We are currently dog-sitting for the Lab. Daughter “A” and her little dog currently live with us.
I recently witnessed an event that set me on fire. It was a rainy day. Daughter “A” was escorting a friend to the door. As they were leaving, when the door opened, the Lab got out. He was sniffing around in the driveway, not really going anywhere. The non-owner daughter commented with distain, “If you go running off, I am not going to chase you like your momma does.” Standing in the doorway, she called his name a time or two and then just watched as he walked towards the sidewalk. Unbeknownst to her, I was standing behind her the whole time.
We live in a high traffic area in the city. The Lab does not know his way around the neighborhood. The neighborhood association does not take kindly to dog droppings on neighborhood lawns. I waited a few seconds to see how daughter “A” reacted. I was disappointed when she turned around towards the kitchen and closed the door.
With bare feet and a t-shirt on, I snatched the leash and ran off after him. I’m not sure which shocked me more, that she made the comment and actually meant it, or the fact that she had no concern at all for the safety of her sister’s dog.
If daughter “A” had reacted while the Lab was right in front of her, she could have stopped him. If she had reacted while he was on the sidewalk, she could have reached him before he sprinted off down the street. Unhappy, dumbfounded, and disappointed, I charged after him and found every rock, stick, and pointed piece junk in the street with the balls of my feet and heels. I hadn’t made it past the neighbor’s house and I was a prime candidate for a wet t-shirt contest.
The effort it would have taken to catch him in the driveway, versus the effort it took to retrieve him from down the street was huge. I am in a complete quandary as to what to do about this and how someone could be so inconsiderate. In the end, I have decided to chalk it up to sibling rivalry. If I am wrong, I have a bigger problem than a runaway dog.