02/03/2024
When will we understand this reality?
I am a 21st century dog.
-I'm a Malinois.
Overskilled among dogs, I excel in all disciplines and I'm always ready to work.
Today I get asked to chill on the couch all day everyday.
-I am an Akita Inu.
My ancestors were selected for dog fighting.
Today I get asked to be tolerant and I get scolded for my reactivity when one of them approaches me.
-I am a Beagle.
When I chase my prey, I raise my voice so the hunters could follow.
Today they put an electric collar on me to shut up, and we want you to come back to the booster with a snap of your fingers.
-I am a Yorkshire Terrier.
I was a terrifying rat hunter in English mines.
Today they think I can't use my legs and they always hold me in their arms.
-I'm a Labrador Retriever.
My vision of happiness is a dive into a pond to bring back the duck he shot to my master.
Today we forgot I'm a walking dog and great racing I'm fat and have to babysit.
-I am a Jack Russell.
I can take on a fox a badger and rat bigger than me in his den.
Today I get scolded for my damn character and wish I could turn into a living room dog.
-I am a Siberian Husky.
Experienced the great spaces of Northern Europe, where I could drag sleds at impressive speeds.
Today I only have the walls of the garden as a horizon, and the holes I dig in the ground just for occupation.
-I am a border collie
I was made to work eight hours a day, and I am an unmistakable artist of working with the herd.
Today they are mad at me because, for lack of sheep, I try to check bikes, cars, children in the house and everything in motion.
I am ...
I am a 21st century dog.
I'm pretty, I'm alert, I'm obedient, I stay in a bag...
but I'm also an individual who needs to express their instincts, and I'm not suited for the sedentary life you'd want me to lead.
Spending eight hours a day alone in the garden, seeing yourself a little in the evening when you get home and only entitled to a small toilet walk will make me deeply unhappy.
I'll express it by barking all day, turning your yard into a minefield, doing my needs indoors, being unmanageable the rare times I'll find myself outside, and sometimes spending my days sunk on my pillow.
Youโd think then that Iโm happy to be able to enjoy all this comfort while you go to work: actually Iโll be exhausted, because this disease is not the plight of humans but also of the dog of the 21st century.
If you like me, if you've always dreamed of me, if my beautiful blue eyes or my athletic look make me want, but you can't give me a real dog's life, a life that's really worth living, and if you can't offer me the job that my genes are asking, so give up on me.
If you like the way I look but aren't willing to accept my temperament traits derived from a strict genetic selection and think you can change them with your sole good will, then give me up.
Iโm a dog from the 21st century, yes, but deep inside me, the one who fought, the one who hunted, the one who pulled sled, the one who led a herd still sleeps.
And sooner or later, for better or for worse, he will wake up.
So what are you gonna do?
Will you give in to me?
Will you abandon me?
Or are you gonna just delete me?