It’s clear that in the world there are really just two sorts of people – those who like dogs and those who don’t. If you don’t, for example, if you’re a cat person (and look, some of my best friends are cat people, I like them pretty well, we can find common ground; sometimes we can go places for a limited period of time together) then maybe you don’t really get dogs.
That’s OK – if you want to live a limited palette.
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Jimmy Fallon shared a lot of pictures with him and his family and Gary. He wrote, “She was our first baby, a therapist, a pillow, a big sister, a schoolmarm, a comedian, a party girl and a rebel. Definitely not a watchdog – she would have let burglars in and shown them where we kept the bacon and American cheese slices. She would jump into the pool immediately after being shampooed and dried (noooooo!) then she’d do her laps (backstroke – jk doggie paddle) then lie in the grass on her back doing bunny kicks with her tongue sticking out.”
And then the kicker: “The house is so quiet. The quiet is so loud.”
All dog people will immediately get it. They’ll identify the things their dogs do, that are similar to other dogs, but OBVIOUSLY somehow specific to them. And they will have that alarm, that little voice that tells them that the quiet is coming, that we will, most likely, outlive our dogs and that we have to rationalise it all. It’s raw.
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One of the reasons that vets have been able to keep chiselling with costs – something that the competition watchdog (no pun) is trying to get to grips with – is that pet owners, of all pets, want the best for their animals. And at a moment of crisis, we’ll agree to whatever is requested to help.
It’s such a terrible shame that so many small practices have had to sell to major conglomerates in order to survive. And those major operators can then keep yanking up prices. It’s unclear how this will change.
We carry a lot of content in Big Issue about our vendor colleagues and their dogs. Imagine being in a very vulnerable housing situation, where your only real companion is your animal, and they get ill. Imagine the fears and helplessness that would rise then. We’re lucky that we link up with some street vet partners who provide vital help. We’ll have more on this as we approach Christmas.
For now, I’m glad that when I go home, I’ll see Toastie. It’s autumn, so being a Springer he loves nothing – and I mean NOTHING – more than heading outside and having leaves kicked up so he can jump. Clearly, no other dog is like that. Toastie is now nine. I hope the loud quiet remains away for a long time yet.
Paul McNamee is editor of the Big Issue.Read more of his columns here. Follow him on X.
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