I grew up with dogs. I still get choked up during Tuner and Hooch and Old Yeller. If my building allowed them, I’d own one. I love dogs.
But seriously? Your dog isn’t that awesome. Like when I’m sitting in the park eating a sandwich and your dog Alex is sniffing around the cold-cuts as I try to shoe him away, and you look up at me like we’re supposed to high-five over how adorable Alex is? No. Let me eat my sandwich and get control of Alex. Or when I’m jogging and you’re out walking Alex, who’s excited not to be cooped up and running all over the place, making the leash into some sort of trip-wire samurai sword? No. Get him under control so the rest of us can get our exercise and have untwisted ankles. Or when you let Alex sniff another dog’s ass and then the second dog snarls at Alex, and you flip out at the other owner as if they just threw a bag of urine on Alex? No. Two animals just failed to get along. It’s nature. It’s not a big deal.
The fact of the matter is that you have every right to love your dog until the end of time, but please remember that you let it jump on your couch and let it lick your face. Please don’t extend the privilege of this intimacy to the rest of us as we’re trying to go about our day…unless we ask. Then it’s great.