Dogs

A dog wandered past me the other day. It was a muscular black thing, the kind of dog that people purchase as intimidation devices, but this chap seemed quite friendly. Ned and Jarvis both shouted "dog" repetitively as it trundled past us unmarshalled by an owner. I wondered what I should do: I could attempt to catch the escapee, but then what next? And this would be a very tricky task to accomplish with a buggy in tow, so I did nothing, feeling like this was the only realistic course of action, and hoped that someone else would do the good deed and reunite Mr Dog with Mr Owner.

As I walked I observed the dog's antics and my heart shuddered at its recklessness as it gambolled in and out of the road with no sense of the pain that could come if a car boshed it on the conk. I don't know the end of this tale - the last I saw of the dog was when he sent his snout around a block of flats at the end of my road, but the point in it is to comment on the stupidity of dogs. Apparently you're either a dog person or cat person and being a cat person can feel uncomfortably effeminate, but these needy canines that can't venture out alone without putting their life in danger are surely inferior to those clever felines who you can take or leave at your pleasure and don't lick you into a state of extreme unhygienicness every time you walk through the door. They can keep their needy pseudo-love; the cattish aloof affection is where its at.