My Life as a Dog
Everybody Loved Me, but My World Was Very Small
People tousled my hair, rubbed me behind the ears, massaged my shoulders, and scratched my back. Everybody loved me! This was my first epiphany in spending a week living like my dog Joey. I had told my friends at the dog park ahead of time of my social experiment, so they were prepared to treat me accordingly.
When my mother took me to the park, and I entered the hallowed gates, all my friends gathered around me and cried out, “Timmy!” Then they rubbed and massaged me. One woman wanted to scratch my bum, but I told her that was inappropriate (at least in public). I ignored the other dogs and the balls that people threw for me. I just wanted to bask in the human love and affection.
I also became very excited whenever the doorbell rang, because I always assume a loving person is coming to visit me (that’s how my dog behaves). The other day my mother’s 80-year-old friend rang the doorbell. I jumped up and down and said, “Who is it? Who is it? Let me see! Let me see!” When the door opened, I gave her a big hug and said, “I love you! Do you love me too? Can you scratch my back?” She stepped back, looking aghast. Apparently, my mother had not informed her of my social experiment.
On the negative side, the food sucked. For my experiment, I decided to be reasonable and not descend into the ludicrous. I still went to the bathroom in the normal human way, refused to wear a dog collar or actually eat dog food. But I was curious to know what it is like to consume the same boring food, day after day. So I decided to eat only bread and drink only water. After two days, I was sick of it. However, with plaintive cries, I was sometimes given a plate to lick or some gristle from a pork chop to eat.
Also, my world was very small. I was only allowed to go to the dog park, or in the front or backyard within a 10-foot radius. In the front yard, I would often bolt out to people walking by and raise my voice, “What are you doing near my territory?”
In the backyard, I always looked for squirrels to chase but I could never catch one. I did go in and out a lot. I would trot out front for one minute, look around, then come back in, and whine to explore out back for one minute, re-enter the house, and whimper to go back out front. I did this at least 20 times a day. Where else could I go?
After one week, I was more than ready to return to my human ways. However, I asked my friends at the park if they could at least continue to massage my shoulders and scratch my back.
