I was just reading Rose’s post about her mom’s dog being mean toward male guests and it reminded me that I had aimed to write a post about why it is that I don’t really like dogs. I stayed at Jon’s aunt’s house a few days ago and they had two indoor dogs. One of them, Slick, was just fine. She followed me around and would plop down on the floor nearby when I stationed myself at a computer or on the couch. She slept and offered herself up to be petted but without pestering me or slobbering or jumping up or snapping or any of the other annoying things dogs do. I liked her.

Clancy, on the other hand, was not so nice. From the moment I entered the house, he acted wary of me. He whined and whimpered around me, despite Jon and his aunt scolding the dog. When I turned my back on him, he nipped at my calves. Jon’s uncle told me I could whack the dog in the head if he pestered me or tried to bite me, but it never came to that. He seemed to be obedient in that he would go away when told, but any time I sat next to Jon on the couch or waved my arms or made any sudden movements, here came Clancy. He’d jump off of his couch and come over to ours, anxiously trying to get to me. To do what, I don’t know, but Jon held him at bay until Clancy was convinced to go lie down again.

And therein lies half the trouble with dogs for me: you can’t sit down or hold a conversation around some of them because they just won’t let you alone. You have guests and the dog has to jump up on them, slobber on them, bark constantly, whine, and generally interrupt the conversation. Ugh, and the smell. I’ve met maybe two dogs in my life that didn’t smell terrible. My brother’s girlfriend has a Yorkshire terrier that was pleasant enough, and it smelled fine. It became a pest at night, though, when it wouldn’t lie still in bed and kept waking me up by jumping to the floor and clicking around, then wanting back up on the bed. However, when it was put in another room, it barked and whined constantly out of loneliness.

I think part of my problem with dogs stems from the fact that, growing up, our dogs stayed outside. If we wanted to interact with them, we’d go out and see them. Otherwise, they were out of the way and not bothering us. So many people have indoor dogs that get run of the house and are left free to hassle any humans that live there or their guests. It’s a different perspective, living with a dog versus having a dog that stays outside.

People are always so forgiving of their misbehaving dogs, too. I have very little patience with a dog that jumps up and gets mud on my clothes, arbitrarily barks, sheds on everything, or generally stinks. Jon’s dog Susie is pleasant enough because she doesn’t bark and she’s happy to lie around and sleep all the time. That’s really what I look for in an animal: something soft and cuddly that will leave me alone unless I choose to interact with it. I think that’s why I like cats pretty well, because they’re so independent and aren’t as loud as dogs. Cats don’t stink, either, but they certainly shed, which is annoying. Of course, you have the litter box to change if you have an indoor cat but if that’s kept in some less used room, the smell isn’t noticeable in the rest of the house.

My brother has recently had a stray dog come around his house, and it’s been sweet enough. It has a nasty habit of jumping up on you, so whenever I walk in the yard I hold out my hands at arm’s length and tell it to stay back. This time of year, everything’s a soggy, muddy mess and the dog gets wet red clay all over its paws, which I definitely do not want smeared on me. The dog followed me back to my parents’ house one day and took to chasing our cats and chickens, which got my dad riled up. He chased it back to my brother’s house because he won’t tolerate an animal that disturbs the peace around here. My parents have two dogs that appreciate our cats as extra blankets in the winter; it’s a pretty endearing sight to see a dog covered in fluffy cats on the porch when it’s cold out.

Most of my dislike of dogs comes from me not wanting to be grungy or stinky, and my dislike of sudden noises. I like peace and quiet, so no barking at random stuff or people that I like. I don’t want to be covered in spit or coarse hair or stinky-dog smell. Any time I pet a dog, I have to wash my hands and the smell still doesn’t go away. Blecch. Despite getting covered in hair, I’m still very fond of cuddling cats, especially fat, fluffy cats that just want to lie around and be cuddled. Jon’s aunt had two such cats, Ishmael and Sami (I don’t know if they spelled it that way, I just kept mentally picturing it like that), and they kept me company by sitting in my lap while I worked at the computer.