Welcome to My Whirled

Pointing and laughing at life :Þ

Please Clean Up After Your Person

When my supreme awesomeness is finally recognized and I am given control of the Universe, the first place I shall point my mighty finger is at the dog park.

The dog park is a place for a dog to run unfettered by leads and chains. A place to interact with it’s own kind. It is supposed to be a place where a dog can be a dog. Of course people have to screw it up.

Dogs have perfected the means of establishing social order. Even in a fluid demographic like the dog park, everyone instinctively knows his place. And he is happy in it.

Occasionally there is a small disagreement. These are resolved quickly with a glare and curled lip. Otherwise the dogs play happily, wrestling, growling, sniffing and humping.

But gods’ forbid a dog should wrestle, growl, sniff or hump. One or more humans will freak out. They judge the dogs’ social interaction by their standards. You know, the standards that include such things as war and The Inquisition. Thus they must rise up and quell the unacceptable canine behavior.

And ruin the dogs’ fun.

In their park!

The fact is, Humans only have three functions at the dog park: transport, making sure the water buckets are full and cleaning up poop. That’s it. Doing anything more is overstepping their bounds. In my universe, justice will be swift.

Those of you who ruin the dogs’ fun with stupid human rules will be repaid in kind. Next time you are humping, someone will come in, pull you off, scold you and drag you away.

You women who hover over your dog and try to control it’s every action by yelling his name every two minutes get a special punishment. You will have headphones epoxied to your ears. They will be connected to an endless recording of crying children in Walmart.

Let the dogs be dogs. And learn a lesson from them

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