Should my bro’s dog go?

But first this…

We spent Christmas with our kiddies and their kiddies in Phoenix. While at the Salt Lake airport, I observed two instances of the difference a dog can make in people’s lives.

The first was a custodian laying out some caution signs. I asked the guy what was going on. He said somebody with a large dog had just walked through and the dog urinated past 2 gates and then up the carpeted runway. I doubt that the dog owner even knew the dog was relieving himself. I for one didn’t know dogs could do that while walking.

Maybe Homeland Security should make a rule that all dogs in airports should be outfitted with catheters.

I’m pretty sure there was enough liquid spilled that a Haz-Mat team should have been called.

A bit later, I saw this lady with her best friend. She came over and sat by me. She proceeded to tell me a sad story. Her family is all against her, she has brittle bones and after breaking a few of them, deals with lots of pain and anxiety. She then listed all the pain killers and assorted pills she’s addicted to.

We didn’t get to talk about her dog but I know it’s probably the most important thing in her life. I felt bad for her. Until we got on the plane and I saw her sitting in first class.

Just kidding. I still bad for her. However, I’m not kidding about the first class. And speaking of dogs…

I have a brother. This brother has a dog. This dog is a hunting dog. This dog is named Cyrus.  Cyrus belongs outside.

Cyrus barks and growls at me whenever we meet up. Maybe it’s because he knows I don’t approve of the fact that he gets to sleep in my brother’s house. The aforementioned house is the house I grew up in.

I look at Cyrus like my dad would if he hadn’t already checked out of this earthly sojourn. Dad would say Cyrus can track scents and scare up pheasants. Outside.

Cyrus can help herd the cows to the next pasture. Outside.

Cyrus can play with the kids on the lawn. Outside.

Cyrus can bark at strangers when they come around. Outside.

Cyrus can make strangers stay in their car until somebody in the house tells him to be quiet. Outside.

Cyrus can keep the house from being ransacked by a few of these strangers. That’s what dogs are for. Outside.

But in my mind, from decades ago, I can still hear Dad saying:

“Get that dog out of this house. Now!”

Dad and I have always held on to the adage that dogs, especially big ones like Cyrus, are not to have a free run of the People House. The Dog House is fine but not the People House.

Dogs aren’t going to scare up any pheasants in the house. They aren’t going to herd any cows in the house (unless they are in India). They just aren’t made for the great indoors.

But unlike me and my dad, my brother let Cyrus have the run of his house. That is until the other day. In an instant, my brother moved over to our side and saw things very clearly from our point of view.

The family had been gone for a couple of hours. When they got home, they saw that Cyrus had wet down a good 500 square-foot section of carpet in the living room. I guess he was just marking his territory. Maybe it was Cyrus’s way of telling my brother that he and his family were no longer welcome in the living room.

At this point, my bro started reconsidering his stance. Then one of the kids went downstairs and found a Mt. Everest style-sized pile of Cyrus’s dog chow remnants and another patch of dew-dew on the carpet.

At this particular point in time, my bro saw the light. It was like he all of a sudden was staring at the sun without sunglasses or a welding helmet.

A malady called Canine Stress was building so he decided to relax and take a dip in the hot tub. (I coined the term Canine Stress. I’m hoping the medical industry grabs on to the term and elevates it up to the level of PTSD and PMS. Maybe I should file for trademark protection.)

Oh, but we’re not done.

The hot tub cover had been completely shredded by…you guessed it. Cyrus. Incidentally, this was not the first cover to be reduced to tatters by Cy.

Bye-bye, Cy.

So the head of the home was informed by my bro that Cy had to go. She put a post on Facebook, asking if anyone would like a dog? She didn’t say they were going to dump him off in the desert. She didn’t say they were going chase him around the house with an ax or a shotgun. She didn’t even say that he was going to sleep outside until they found a new owner.

She just asked if anyone would like a dog.

This family all love Cyrus. If you don’t believe it, take a look at the picture…

They love Cyrus but enough is enough. (Cyrus has caused other damages along the way that haven’t been spelled out.)

She instantly got major feedback on Facebook, a few of them scolding and even screaming at her for being a bad person, irresponsible and mean for not taking care of her dog. It was as if people thought Cyrus should be the top dog on the food chain, a notch above her kids.

In my opinion, a good share of this world is going insane. They think animals have more rights than humans. I personally think critters were put on the earth for the good of man, not the other way around.

I mean, where does it stop? If a dog is on the same level as your children, is a cat also? If so, then how about a squirrel? Which reminds me of an incident a few years back.

My son Derek and his wife Brianne were living in Charlottesville VA while he went to law school. One day they drove down the lane from their apartment and a squirrel darted across the road. A couple of their tires make a crunching sound and ended the squirrel’s mortal existence.

They stopped and walked back and found the tree hugger. It was lying on it’s back with paws in the air, glassy-eyed and putting out a few final involuntary shudders.

They felt bad. Especially Brianne. She thought for a few seconds of how they could possibly help this flattened and almost-a-corpse bigtail and then asked, “Would it help if we fed him a nut?”

Brianne is a sweet lady and always wants to help. However I’d bet the entire bundle of assets that I own (approximately $124 and some change) that she has never worked in the surgical wing of a squirrel hospital or she wouldn’t have asked a question like that.

Anyway, back to animal rights. If squirrels have rights, then how about frogs? If they do, how about a mouse? If so, what about a snake? And if the mouse and snake have rights, what about a butterfly? And a stinkbug? And an earthworm? And a mosquito?

If they get their way and it becomes a crime to swat a mosquito, they’ll probably outlaw mosquito nets and OFF!

What a messed up world.

So my bro’s wife started getting hate mail after her Facebook inquiry. A real estate agent somewhere down south took the cake. Here is her communication (redacting the really nasty expletives):

********* is quite a refined and well-spoken lady, isn’t she?

This lady’s real estate company is listed on her page. If you were her boss, would you want an employee spewing this kind of venom over the airwaves?

There’s been some major new developments concerning this situation. My next post will address the situation.

.