August 11, 2004
Dogs World

A dog’s life.  In Minneapolis Fido lives at the top of life’s heap.  My sister now lives in Minnesota along with Henry, her yellow lab and Sannabelle, a corgi.   While waiting for the real estates machinations to transpire, there was a house in Grand Junction to sell and one in the Twin Cities to buy; her new company put her up in a motel.  Since she was working ten to twelve hours a day at her new job something had to be done with her dogs.

 “So did you put your mutts in a kennel?” I inquired.  “First off” she replied, “They’re not mutts and secondly no self respecting dog person puts their puppies in a kennel.  My pets visit doggy day care.”

  One tries to cope and anticipate life’s inventible changes, but every so often, you still get jolted.  Like learning about a dog’s life in the frozen tundra better known as Minnesota. 

Growing up several decades ago in a small mid-western farm town animals were a part of daily life.  But there were rules.  Dog’s stayed outside except for the coldest nights of the year.  A cat in the house?  Not in farm country.  Cats were for mousing in the barn.  Spay and neuter a tabby?  Why bother, the cat population kept itself in check by their insistence on playing next to the hard road.  But today?

 “So tell me about puppy pre-school.” I asked.  And that’s when I learned retirement runs a distant second to a dog’s life.   

On her way to work my sister pulls into doggy day care around 7 a.m. First things first, she stores the leashes and chew toys for her dogs in their respective lockers.  Not just an ordinary locker but oak cabinets with nameplates for “Henry Miller” and “Sannabelle Miller.”  At “poochy pre-school there is not only a large play area but also a monstrous couch where the dogs can lounge or jump or drool or do whatever dogs do as long as it is within the rules of canine behavior, i.e. scratching, sniffing and licking are acceptable forms of social inter-action but “no” means “no” unless you’re a toy poodle, they never listen to anyone. 

Every dog is given daily “cuddle time” where they share a half an hour of one on one with a handler. Afternoons find the pooches in attendance being treated to an afternoon movie.  Some of the features include “101 Dalmatians”, “Beethoven” and “The Lady and The Tramp.”  Do you show “Old Yeller” my sister asked?  “Oh never” said the headmaster, “Old Yeller dies and our dogs are just too depressed for the remainder of the day.”  

At day’s end when picking up the dogs my sister is given a report card for the day.  Noted in longhand are the pooches mood, the names of the dogs they played with, what the puppies had for lunch, what their appetite was like during the noon repast and at the bottom of the page an overall grade for the day.  At this point in the conversation I was too incredulous to inquire whether petulant pooches and other discipline problems were sent to the principal’s office, made to sit in the cloak room until they” changed their attitude,” or suspended from school for delinquent behavior. 

And what does this palatial poochie pre school cost?  Well not as much as Harvard or Stanford but more than Iowa State. 

Not that dog heaven is exclusive to Minneapolis.  The Denver Post recently reported on the Golden Bone Doggie Country Club in south Denver.  It’s Colorado’s first cage free kennel with each dog having it’s own acre along the South Platte in which to frolic the day away.  Besides a 10,000 square foot playground the club also features a web cam where owners can check up on their puppy twenty-four hours a day.   

A dog’s life indeed.  At my sister’s doggy pre-school each dog still in attendance at five in the afternoon is treated to dog biscuits and Dasani water.  It’s called the “Yappy Hour.”