It's A Dog-Interact-With-Dog World Out There

By Rick Horowitz

When the talk turns to pets, I turn to leave. Call me crazy, but I just don't see any reason to stick around the party dip to hear all about the latest adventures of Siegfried or Fluff.

I had a goldfish once. He drowned. (It was the only interesting thing he ever did.) I had a chameleon once. He escaped from his box the day we brought him home, and hid behind the radiator. Dumb move, even for a chameleon.

These were low-maintenance pets, mind you, my goldfish and my chameleon. (Low-maintenance to start with; later they were no maintenance at all, except for disposal.) They required almost nothing of me -- no walking, no grooming, no shots -- and I still couldn't keep up my end of the bargain.

So why would I possibly want to inflict that same degree of personal attention on some larger animal, something, say, with a central nervous system more complicated than a peach pit? The answer is: I wouldn't.

Of course, that's before I heard about Doggy Day Care.

I say "of course" as if everyone's heard about Doggy Day Care, when the truth of the matter is most people have probably never heard of it. I know I hadn't heard of it until just a day or two ago, when I saw the story in the paper with the totally compelling headline, "Day Care Center Focuses on Dogs' Social Lives."

And now? Has my life been transformed? It all depends: Do you consider nonstop giggling a life-transforming experience?

"Doggy Day Care" is the particular name of the particular establishment in the story, but doggy day care -- lower-case, the concept -- is an actual national trend, yes indeed. You're stuck at the office hour after hour? Month after month? Never fear -- with doggy day care, your pooch is never home alone, mauling the furniture and doing who-knows-what (you know what) to the carpet. Your pooch is among friends, having a better time than you are.

Your pooch is part of an "interactive socialization program."

That's right: an "interactive socialization program." Don't think kennel -- row after row of depressing, confining cages. Think Shriners.

Doggy Day Care dogs, you see, are encouraged to play with one another. They're even assigned to specific play groups (would I lie to you?) according to their personalities -- "who gets along with who," the proprietor says.

Makes perfect sense; after all, the last thing you want is some Doberman with an attitude trying to chat up one of those prissy, panty poodles over by the water bowl every morning. Talk about your four-legged faux pas!

But there's more to life than canine fun and games, absolutely. Doggy Day Care dogs get one-on-one attention, the kind their owners just can't provide. They also take walks. They also take naps, every day at noon. And how, you're wondering, do the dogs know that noontime is nap time? Let the proprietor explain: "We put them in their padded crates, we turn down the lights and put on classical music."

Works for me.

If I were a dog, I mean. If I were a dog and my owner lived at his desk 70 hours a week and "snarl at the mailman" topped my Things to Do list, I'd be thinking Doggy Day Care was a pretty cool way to spend my time. That's exactly what I'd be thinking, at least until I saw the part about "spayed or neutered."

Doggy Day Care won't take you unless you've been spayed or neutered.

Even "interactive socialization" has its limits.

4/25/97

©1997 Rick Horowitz. All rights reserved.