I’m so sick of going out for a dawnish dewy amble, only to end up battling noisy dogs just to be heard. Dogsplaining is an epidemic in parts of the country where every park has a fenced in area surrouned by sand and some excrement. Who am I kidding? It’s not “some.”
Plenty of people have reason to be angry at Hollywood for cartoonish portrayals in television and film. Every group, profession and type of person has been caricatured at one time or another in the name of entertainment. But not dogs. Dogs are given superpowers of sagacity and strength, roaming the streets as saintly figures of any given story. Even the behavior of bad dogs is usually blamed on the owners and not the canines themselves. They are heroes, perfect in every way.
But in truth, dogs are all bark and lots of bite. They speak up simply to be heard, drowning out any competition with their restlessness and high-pitched yelpings. And when they have the floor all to themselves, what do they do with it? They don’t make a grand statement. Let’s just say the floor is used for non-verbal activities. It’s one thing to do this in the wild, but in a crowded city where hearing comes at a cost, sometimes it’s too much to take.
Dogsplaining occurs whenever a person is drowned out by a yapping mutt in their general vicinity. It’d be one thing if some of them spoke a language we understood.
I don’t know why it bothers me or if it bothers me, since I don’t actually own a dog.
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