Look at the dog. Look at the dog. Look at my dog.
Dogs. Fucking dogs.
I’d like to make this absolutely clear. I would rather write a dissertation about the surface of a dry concrete slab than look at your dog. I have no interest in hearing anything about what your dog does, has done, or may do. I don’t care what it eats, whether it’s friendly or not, or whether it’s caught a cold and its little nose is all red.
Yesterday a massive Doberman sprinted up to me in a park, ribbons of slobber swinging from its gums. It stopped just short of my shoes and screamed at me.
“That’s a scary dog”, I stammered at the owner.
“No it’s not”, she said, apparently hurt.
On balance, I suspect I’m a more accurate judge of what I find scary than I women I’ve never met. So I’m pleased to reiterate, I found it scary. Not only do dogs smell, but they make noise and drop hairs on stuff and have bumholes covered in dried shit and yes, as far as I’m concerned, sometimes they’re scary. If you’re the owner of a hound and want to cuddle up with it in the privacy of your own home and let its foul tongue lap jellied turkey off your belly, that’s none of my business. But if your beast runs at me, or jumps at me, or howls in my general direction then we’ve got a problem.
One time I was in the park having a picnic with my girl. A dog (think Zoltan: Hound of Dracula) ran over, invaded my camp and started licking my M&S salad. When the owner arrived she appeared astonished that I wasn’t enjoying the scenario.
“Most people don’t seem to mind”, she said.
If I wanted a dog to rub its gums on expensive convenience food, I’d buy a fucking dog and bath it in pasta spirals. But I’m never going to buy a dog. I’d rather eat an entire dog, with chips and peas than have to own the same dog, alive, for half an hour.
Why is it ‘dog people’ seem to think everyone else is a closeted dog person? Why do they assume that the right encounter, with the right little furry friend will convert anyone into becoming a committed dog-liker? I’m just going to come out and say it… I’m an evolved human being. I don’t need to drag a member of the animal kingdom around on a piece to string to feel superior.
I. Don’t. Like. Dogs.
These patterned shirts from NOMA t.d have nothing whatsoever to do with dogs, which is possibly why I like them so much. Although I must admit, it did cross my mind that possibly, what with them being so boldly garish and all, they might work as a dog repellant. Do dogs hate bright colours. Or do they love them? I have have no idea? For all I know wearing one of these would turn me into a giant canine fuck-totem — I’d quickly be surrounded by mutts vigorously rubbing their corkscrewy red knobs up and down my cords.
I don’t want to think about that. Look, it’s a super-relaxed short-sleeved shirt. It’s available in two colourways (purple and green) and you can grab one over at the ever reliable Sculp Store. They are, it must be said, the ideal walk in the park shirt. Just assuming it’s a park where they don’t allow dogs. Or cats.
Christ, don’t get me started on cats.