by Randy Vaughan

Created on: August 03, 2008   Last Updated: December 11, 2009

And so I'm waiting for the young lady to give me some heartworm pills for one of our dogs. Also standing there is a chap with one of those Alaskan dogs, big dog, the ones with those piercing blue eyes that leave you with the impression he, the dog, not the man, looks through your soul and can see into all eternity and that you, the mere puny earth mortal, are nothing more than were the ancient monks who, in the words of Martin Luther, were fleas on God's fur coat.

And so a lady comes along to take the leash.A leash, someone once wrote, is nothing more than a rope with a noose at both ends. I've never forgotten that. And after having owned more than my share of dogs and cats and fishes and turtles and gerbils and hamsters and parakeets and even a ferret, I've concluded that our animals own us, not the other way around.

And so as she's leaving with the dog, another lady working there says, "Make sure to be extra gentle with him. He's a show dog."

Oh, I see, I'm thinking to myself. My dog one of them, anyway thinks he's a beagle. Sure, he has all the markings and stuff but there's about as much beagle in him as there is in me, and that's just enough to howl at the full moon over the things in life that annoy us, arouse our curiosity, or scare the living hell right out of us. After that, I have no idea what "breed" he is except this: He has the biggest heart in the whole wide world and if he had his way, would never step foot outside again. Now that I think of it: He's the canine version of me or perhaps I'm the human version of him.

So not only do humans love to anthropomorphize their notions of God, gods, goddesses, angels, demons, and the rest of the inhabitants of the spiritual realms, am I to understand that we do the same thing with our animals? Now since she was to be "extra careful" with this "show dog," I'm left to conclude that she would be careful with our pure-bred Schipperke, but not "extra" careful since he's not a "show dog". And then, my poor beagle-wannabe? Well, I guess "careful" doesn't matter.

What is it that so drives humans to break everything and everyone down into classes based upon the most superfluous aspects of our being and existence, things like money and looks and presumed station in life relative to that of others? I mean, let's face it: When all is said and done, and looking at humans as indeed nothing more than "just another animal" on this planet, we're born, we breathe, we eat, we excrete, we breed, we perform some type of labor

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