What separates us humans from every other living being on the planet (aside from a thumb and our intelligence capabilities) are emotions. I’m sure I don’t need to explain what emotions are, but I may need to talk a little about understanding them and tangibly expressing them.
For the last 6 or 7 weeks, I have been working diligently to become more aware and thus more in control of my emotions. Getting to know me personally will reveal that while I go with the flow on many things, I have several triggers that will elicit a very strong, passionate response unlike what I typically express.
For instance, the very sight of my dream car will send me into a babbling, tell anyone who will listen explanation about why that car is the greatest car ever produced and why it will be mine one day. Another example is the very true to life anger that boils inside of me when the typical sports fan begins ranting about what they saw or what they predict will happen in a game.
I used to pay little attention to the details of these emotional responses. I never really noticed the lead up to my heart pounding so strong in my chest that I’d swear anyone could hear it. I never thought much about my need to chew something to calm me down. But lately, I’ve been thinking about it; I’ve been teaching myself to put a pinch of thought into what is about to be an emotional outburst of some sort, and today’s situation prompted me to share this with you…
My girlfriend sent me a text asking if I knew anyone who wanted a white pit bull. My first thought was, “Again, with the dogs?” I, regretfully, responded “no” (other than myself) and asked the follow-up, “Why is this dog being given away?” The response to that question triggered me: “She [the owner] just doesn’t have time for him anymore. I think he is 8 months.”
The benefit of texting is the ability to read, THINK, and think some more. I can also go through all of my facial expressions and other non-verbal communicative outbursts and analyze them before crafting a response. What washed over me was an odd combination of anger, heartbreak, and disappointment and something else that I could not pinpoint as it comes up only in the rarest of circumstances. Why? Disappointment – I would never put myself in a situation that gave me no time for my dogs. Heartbreak – I can’t take the dog myself, nor do I know anyone who could. Anger – this is why I’m against backyard breeding: too many of the dogs end up with people ignorant of the commitment it takes to give a dog a forever home. Oh, and never mind it’s another pit bull.
So what does all of this mean to me? I realized I had very strong feelings to this situation and it prompted me to take some kind of action; I am giving voice to a non-verbal response. I’m not sure I can stop here, though…
I’m going to keep having these feelings whenever this situation, all too common as it is, arises. I’m going to be involved in some way or another with dogs for as long as I’m capable, so I should really do something about this. Further action should be taken. More work should be done on my part. Like what?
No freakin idea…
The problem: supply and demand. I think. But it’s not quite as simple as A and B. There is an obviously high demand for puppies. People want puppies. People love puppies. Responsible breeders and irresponsible breeders recognize this and fill that demand with puppies. Here’s the tricky part: those puppies don’t always last with their original owners, and end up part of the supply pool again. At 6 months, 8 months, 1 year, 2 years, etc., they go back into the supply pool with the 8 – 12 week old puppies. But the demand isn’t for the former; the demand is for the latter. Meanwhile, the responsible and irresponsible breeders continue to supply with puppies. Many people don’t want a dog that has behavioral issues or issues they perceive the dog to have. That dog is in the shelter for a reason, right? Why take a chance on a dog who’s background you don’t know and who’s issues could potentially be dangerous and difficult to fix?
I don’t think I need to explain that story any further. So what to do about it? Maybe I can articulate what’s bouncing all over my mind…
THE PET 
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