Fido and Fifi, Please Stay Home

Before I launch, here is a disclaimer: The following column in no way is an indication of how the author feels about pets, and dogs specifically. The author adores bowwows of all sizes, shapes, colors, breeds and current states of cleanliness. However, she feels that there is a time and a place for our canine cohorts and that is the subject of this following piece. End of very professional disclaimer.

Moving along, as anyone within the confines of Crawford County realizes, unless a rock has been his or her roof for the past few months, the Pumpkin Fest unfolded a few weeks ago.

It was totally fabulous, as usual, with the parade, in my opinion, being the highlight of the whole shindig.

During the course of the parade, several people spoke to me and pretty much imparted my exact thoughts aloud.

This was the nature of their words. What is the deal with bringing dogs along to parades? I don’t understand this concept and, evidentially, I’m not alone in this line of reasoning either.

Does Fido enjoy the parade? Is FiFi totally enthralled by the Zem Zem Shriner units or what?

As the totally real person, other than myself, of course, who wrote the disclaimer pointed out so eloquently, I am an animal lover of all varieties. I even carry Daddy Long-Leg creatures out of my tent gently and place them on the ground, or in a tree, or someplace “spiderish” rather than murdering them. I just don’t enjoy maneuvering around wagging and panting during processions unless, of course, it’s some delightfully handsome fellow displaying his true views of your humble columnist.

I don’t think it’s unreasonable to request a two-hour span of dog-free living. When folks with walkers, motorized scooters or other means of transport, for those in need, find themselves taking on the appearance of gymnasts or the men in the flying trapeze in order to zig and zag around a Rottweiler, then our priorities have gone awry, I fear.

Most of us have attended a procession, of one kind or another, in our lives, (even without being paid, like I was, to attend), and we all know that it’s akin to taking up residence, for a few hours, in a sardine can. Why make things more difficult by bringing along Man’s Best Friend?

Also, what if, just what if, the dog in question is not wearing his diaper and nature comes a knocking at his door? Yuck, first of all and secondly, can you imagine a toddler happening upon this most putrid situation? I’m sure the folks who suffer separation anxiety from their dear pets more than likely bring along the infamous zipper bag but, there is a time frame from start to finish, if you catch my stinky drift, involved in cleanup.

Let’s move on from that very unpleasant mental picture I’ve painted using dog feces, oops, there I go again, and just focus on what possible benefit there is in slapping on a leash and dragging the four legged confused creature to the parade.

OK, I stepped away from the computer for about 10 minutes in order to give you time to come up with a list of possible reasons for transporting Fido and FiFi out to see the fire trucks, clowns and floats.

I’m waiting for your list of logical reasons...Still waiting...OK then. I think you get the picture.

Now, I did conjure up one legitimate situation in which a parade pooch is totally necessary and that is if it’s some kind of service dog for the disabled.

That, my dear readers, is the only scenario in which a hound should attend any kind of parade. See, I do have some kind of a heart after all pertaining to this most pressing matter.

Now, I’m certain that those guilty parties who think everyone in the world cannot live another moment without seeing their precious mongrels at every turn at an outdoor event, such as the above-mentioned, will loathe me for penning this piece.

I’m OK with that as I simply had to get this off my chest and, really, isn’t that the point of Rants and Raves?

Until next time, I’m off to the Humane Society to adopt the whole lot of mutts because there are several upcoming parades in our reading area. Oh, I can’t wait to tangle up that unknowing senior citizen in my plethora of leashes!

(Now, picture that menacing laugh that only Vincent Price can muster.)