I used to say dogs are people too until it occurred to me I was insulting the dogs. I've never known, or known of, a dog who lied, cheated, betrayed, stole, backstabbed, and so on. When dogs do bite, they "bite because they feel scared, are hurt or sick, or want to protect their space …
I used to say dogs are people too until it occurred to me I was insulting the dogs.
I’ve never known, or known of, a dog who lied, cheated, betrayed, stole, backstabbed, and so on. When dogs do bite, they “bite because they feel scared, are hurt or sick, or want to protect their space and toys: according to the American Kennel Club.” They do not bite to be cruel.
As I said, “dogs are people too” is a misnomer, albeit an understandable and lovely one.
I’ve had dogs, male and female, for nearly all my adult life. Dogs from all walks of life, I might add. Most were rescues.
When I lived in a more rural setting than I do now, I had three dogs: McKenzie, a German Shepherd, Milo, a brindle Beagle mix, and Greta, a black lab mix. They loved each other and, needless to say (I hope), they loved me, and I loved them.
Right now, I live with a six-year-old, 23.2-pound Havanese-Dachshund mix named Rascal. We’ve been together for nearly four and a half years. The first year and a half of his life he lived on the streets of the Dominican Republic. Rascal and other strays were sent to this county to find them homes. He’d been abused, was fearful and as a result, aggressive and defensive. It took him time to discover he was safe.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, comforts my heart and soul more than to see a living being feeling safe. Feeling safe in a loving home is something we all deserve.
By the way, to say, dogs are family too, is an exercise in truth-telling.
