The charms of dogwalking

My immediate family and I have never owned a dog – cats, yes, but that was far as it went – though I personally have no objections to them and would quite like to have one during my time on Earth (Mars awaits!).  Indeed, I would like to have a puppy and a kitten and raise them together so, as I believe the relevant literature says, they become effectively siblings to each other.

A dog is also a good reason to get one out of the house for unless you’re stupid, rich or stupid rich and buy one of those dog treadmills, your canine companion will need regular, that is, daily exercise.  In this way, one can meet other dog-owners and strike up friendships on your usual beat that you would never have done so otherwise.  For sure and for the most part, your fellow dog-walkers will never extend beyond the level of acquaintance but a comradeship through commonality will be engendered.

As I was walking across the iron bridge that crosses the railway cutting that links a nearby park to the rear of a supermarket, I saw affixed to the wire mesh a notice not dissimilar to those when pets are lost.  And this was the case in a definitive and permanent way.  Under laminate, there was a printed picture of a Scotty dog (I’m not too up with breeds but it was small and looked that kind of pooch) and below text, informing us that she had suffered a fall and had to be put down.  There were flowers fastened next to the sheet.

I think that’s incredibly sweet, heart-warming and imaginative.  To account for their non-appearance now, they were informing their dog-walking friends what had become of them and it is with this kind of consideration for others that is a key foundation of civilisation.  I know nothing else about this bereaved dog-owner but I do know this.

Over the next two weeks, more small bouquets were tied to the mesh next to the sheet as friends and well-wishers signified their appreciation of this gesture and their commiseration for the loss of the dog.  The notice was eventually removed when rainwater penetrated the laminate and caused the ink to run, which stopped it being a fitting memorial, but it will always serve in my mind that even on the occasion of routine we can be more than the sum of our parts.