The Last Straw

Blog Hop #48

I sit at my table in the cool dining area, stirring my ice water.  The thermostat says it is 93 in the shade.  I listen to the dog bark.  Stirring my ice water.  The dog is wildly barking.  I can imagine it straining at the end of its chain.  Leaping into the air spinning and landing backwards.   Rutgers is one of the neighborhood dogs.  He is a Vizla; red, lean, muscular, one year old, and kept on a ten foot chain.  Rutgers has begun as a well natured animal.  But I have seen what time spent at the end of a chain can do to even the nicest creature. 

When the young man across the street first brought the small pup home, I thought it might be a signal of the halt to the endless parties taking place at the house.  I hoped.  I hoped for a few quiet weekends with little to no traffic on our cul-de-sac.   For the first few weeks, my dreams seem to come true.

At first I imagined he would join the other pet owners walking their dogs around the neighborhood stopping to chat and be friendly.  I thought, maybe he would have an interest in the young lady up on the next street.  Perhaps they might walk their dogs together, she has two Greyhounds.  The two dogs seemed to accept one another as I watched them being walked.

I peek out the kitchen window to see what is whipping the dog into such a fuss.   The children directly across the street are in their own front yard playing hop-scotch while their father inflates a wading pool.  I worry about  the “some days” and the strength of that rusty chain. Right now, the dog seems to be wanting to join the kids playing.  How long before that playfulness turns to envy.  In this heat, I would dare say not long at all.

I peer at the thermostat again, only 2:15 and inching towards 100 degrees.  That poor dog.  I have stopped on my walks to fill it’s water dish.  Jumping and leaping at the end of the chain either makes him very thirsty or he has knocked it over spilling the contents.  In this heat, he should at least be able to get some shade.  Wouldn’t that at least be mandatory?  Aren’t there some sort of laws regarding the care of animals?  Where is the SBCA when you want them?

Dogs barking and barking and barking and barking, drives me crazy! But, as much as I would like to be mad at the dog, I am disgusted by the person who calls themselves his person/owner/family.  Such disregard for life.  How can you be in your mid thirties and still not respect the fragility of life?  I guess, that would be the same respect the owner has for his neighbors, by leaving an animal out barking at all hours of the day and night.

I sit at my kitchen table.  It is the last straw.  I pick up my phone and call the authorities.  If you won’t take care of your responsibilities, there are others who will.  Your rights do not outweigh the rights of others inhabiting this planet, even if they can’t speak for themselves.