The M-Word

Although I have given Ralph a bad time on occasion, actually causing him to puddle with fear, I have never called him a name, much less have I used the m-word on him. Since dear old Angus got clipped by that car on Hot Springs Road and became lost to me, Fido is the closest thing to a best friend I have. B.'s dog, Godiva, isn't bad, and there was that full Aussie Cattle Dog, Cowgirl, that used to hang out at Peet's. Kit is no slouch, either. He's had some occasionally feisty words, but never the m-word. Actually, humans are more likely to use it than other dogs, although those awful days I spent in Animal Control, waiting for Boss to come and take me home, I heard some of the dogs there using it.

Dogs who are behind fences often use it, simply because they are jealous when a free dog goes by. That dreadful Afghan Taliban Hound on Parra Grande uses it on me as I strut by. It may be a neighborhood thing; the German Shepherd on Riven Rock used to shout it at Angus, who, for all he didn't look it, was a pure Border Collie.

But there, you have it. Some dogs can't stand to see other dogs out on the town, doing their jobs, getting some exercise. There have been some dogs on Milpas Street, especially when we used to go to--you'll think I'm making this up--The Dog House, where I was given my own sausage and a choice of mustard or plain; these dogs would use the m-word, but they used it as much about themselves as to other dogs.

I was taken aback the first time one of them approached me and warned me, You watch your back, little lady, they's some mutts out there gonna want to rank on you. And one of them even told a friend, hey, that mutt can take care of herself. Takes a mutt to know.

All this is to show I am as free of bigotry as some dogs, but not the the three who live behind the fence at the outskirts of Toro Canyon Road. Mutt! they shouted after me as I ran by. All three of them. Mutt! Mutt! Mutt! I had to explain: I am half Australian Shepherd, half Australian Cattle, and I can herd your sorry ass in a circle.

So okay, I lost my temper. But I didn't use the m-word on them, and you could see the m-ness, combining forces really to smooth out the more disagreeable tendencies of a pure breed.

I have had some conversations on Milpas Street about d-dogs, which to me is even worse than the m-word. None of us had much control in our heritage, and to take it out on a designer dog or a mutt is to miss the point that we have jobs to do, we excel in our jobs, not some silly paper that says we're registered somethings or other.

It would surprise me to learn that d-dogs have a sense of mission, but just the other day, Fido was suggesting that their mission was to please, which although low on my priority list is still something to think about.

The next time those Toro Canyon dogs use the m-word on me, I know just what to say. Get a life. Get a job.