Aside from pigeons and seagulls, which are mutated forms of rats with wings, I’m generally an animal person. I’d almost lump crows into the disliked category, but I have this hope that one day they will rise up against the already mentioned varmits and destroy their empire. Perhaps it would be going too far to say that I’d like to see this happen in a West Side Story[imdb] battle to end all battles, but I digress.
When I see some one walking down the street with a dog that’s about the size of me, I have an overwhelming, child-inside-me urge to run up and pet it. This is after I have the thought that the person who owns this beast is probably living in an apartment that is in the 600 square foot range, give or take a hundred or two. Animals of this size need room to roam. That why they have four legs, right?
I don’t get as excited by little lap dogs. Rebecca and I like to call them “puntables”. Rude, I know, but if you are not watching where you are going while walking along a busy, downtown sidewalk, you can give one of those things the boot.
The struggle I have is the correct and incorrect thing to do when it comes to interacting with these creatures. They’re not mine, and for the most part, I try not to try. There are some owners who are visibly ok with anyone coming into contact with their pet. Others give you a scowl. I’m sure that old lady walking her chiuaua couldn’t kick my ass as much as I could send her little doggy through the uprights from fifty yards out. Of course, just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
Heheh, I have two “puntables” of my own. I think it’s really funny how much more approachable (usually) that big, more intimidating-looking, dogs are. From my experience, smaller dogs are brattier because they get more spoiled at home: you can pick them up and cuddle them like babies in a way you can’t with big dogs. Plus, they have inferiority complexes (both my dogs do) and they have to challenge anything – human or other dogs – that’s bigger than they are.