by Madeleine Kando
I was walking my diminutive dog in the local woods the other day when I met a dogwalker and his young son. The father was holding three large black labs on short leashes and I wasn’t sure who was leading who – him or the dogs. My miniature dog goes by the name of Max although ‘Bonaparte’ would be more appropriate because he suffers from a huge Napoleon complex. You know, someone who thinks he is much bigger than he is. He trotted up to the three black monsters, his tail and big chihuahua ears sticking up in the air. I could see some resemblance between him boldly approaching the three black monsters and the renowned general on his white horse facing the enemy.The dogs stopped and so did the dog owner. He was slightly out of breath and probably grateful for this unexpected break in his continuous effort to restrain his dogs.
We started to chat while the dogs began their ritual of front and back sniffing and turning around each other to examine each other's merchandise. They all went off exploring some communal tree trunk and as usual Max got peed on because of his size.
And of course we talked shop, which people do who walk their dogs in the woods. They talk about their dogs. He told me colorful stories of some of the dogs he had walked. This particular trio were mother and sons and the one he had walked earlier only had three legs. So eventually I told him that Max had been abandoned by his owner, a homeless woman who had been evicted, and that he had lived in a kennel for three years, spending most of his time in a little cage. That is bad for any dog but especially for a dog who suffers from a Napoleon complex. We both commiserated on how awful some people treat animals, abandoning them in a kennel like that.
Being from Dutch origin, I told him proudly that in Holland there is an animal party. A party that is designed to uphold animal rights and oppose cruelty to animals. They actually have enough members, I told him, to give them two seats in the Dutch parliament.
I was somewhat disappointed by his reaction. He didn’t seem to be impressed by how progressive the Dutch are. I thought maybe he thinks I am joking? But his young son made up for the father’s lack of response by saying: ‘Dad, that’s so cool. I sure hope they chose German Shepherds as representatives. They are the smartest dogs, right?’leave comment here
1 comment:
leuk verhaal, Madeleine!
I happen to be in Holland right now.
While I haven't got any information for you about the Dutch animal party, I want to share with you a first, in all my travels:
When I flew over a few days ago, the lady next to me had a little dog with her (this was on the first leg of my trip - the five-hour flight from California to Philadelphia). The dog (a little Chihuaha - sp.?) was inside a box underneath the seat in front, as a carry-on. But then, she took him out to give him some water, and then she had to go to the bathroom, so I ended up with the dog on my lap. It was real cute, because I had a window seat, and when the doggie looked out over the clouds, his ears perked up real pointy. He seemed to understand that he was in heaven, or something.
Soon the flight attendant told me to put the damn dog away, but I had to wait for its owner to return from the bathroom.
Imagine if this had been a German shepherd!
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