The love and affection we have for our four-legged furry friends is hard to comprehend if you’ve never had a pet. The unconditional love one receives from their pet stays with you for a lifetime.
Even though my wife and I do not currently own any pets, we’ve discussed possibly getting a dog in the near future. My partner, too, grew up with the purest of love for her family’s dog. So much love that I’m often reminded that, after us being married for five years now, her affection for her family’s dog supersedes the love she has for me. I’ve come to terms with it.
However, what I haven’t come to terms with, nor do I see myself doing so in the foreseeable future, is the social hierarchical transcendence of dogs.
It was 2017 when I took up a part-time gig at Barnes & Noble located in Chicago’s famed Northside neighborhood of Lincoln Park. Mainly, my role consisted of helping customers locate and purchase books. I’d also recommend books to customers who were looking to gift a book to a friend. Occasionally, I’d have to tidy up the store when there was spilled coffee or a stack of books left out in the café. But, it was on one day in particular while at work that I witnessed the convincing ascent of dogs in our collective society.
Over the employee intracom communication device, a message was given to us that we should remind customers and each other to watch our step while exiting the store. Apparently, there was an accident toward the main entrance. After hearing this message, I went down to the first floor to see what the accident had been all about. There was a yellow caution sign in the middle of the walkway as a few of my colleagues had already begun spraying the floor with disinfectant. I went up to them and asked what had happened. They told me a customer had brought their dog into the store, and before leaving, the dog decided to leave a little present on the floor.
After hearing this, I stood there puzzled. I tried to collect more details to piece the whole story together. Who was the customer? Did anyone step in the poop? Did the customer show remorse upon leaving?
So many questions were running through my head. However, there was one question in particular that lingered with me long after leaving work that day—what was the dog doing in the store in the first place?
To take it a step further, why did the owner of this dog feel it was within their right to bring a dog into the store? Not to mention, this Barnes & Noble had a café where food was sold, and yet the owner didn’t consider leaving the dog outside or, even better, at home.
It was then that I began to see the societal shift in our relationships with dogs. Perhaps, I was late to this observation. How we no longer viewed them as friends who were only permitted to the usual spaces we were accustomed to seeing them in: the house, the car, at the park. No, it was then I realized the liberties now given to dogs had extended to spaces we used to identify as human only. Dogs had been given a pass to occupy space. The new authorization of space placed upon dogs had been collectively provided by their owners. This was done through the intangible power of entitlement.
We now live in a society where the entitlement of particular demographics have transferred their entitlement onto their pets (mainly dogs), giving pets the right to occupy space that is not, nor was it ever, intended for them. Sound familiar? If not, well then, it should.
To occupy space that simply was not intended for you by walking in as if you own it is one of the ugliest traits we humans practice. Without permission, without a blessing, without proper welcoming, some members of society feel it is within their right to bring an animal with them into a store.
This wielding of power is the definition of a flex. For one to openly challenge this power would be met with a swift rebuttal. “How dare you?” “My dog is allowed in the store!” “If I can’t bring my dog in here, I’ll no longer shop here.” By nature of the relationship we have with our dogs, any disapproval of them is disapproval of us. Our pets are an extension of us. They are armed with all levels of entitlement with which the owner possesses. Sound familiar?
Common—a famous hip-hop artist— once said, “Why white folks care more about dogs and yoga?” I saw it then when I first heard the lyrics, and I’m seeing it now more than ever. More than race, I’d argue, it’s a matter of class when seeing the type of owners who are bringing their dogs into stores with pompous attitudes. In the realm of giving care and empathy, one could say dogs have surpassed certain groups of human beings.
Quite simply, access equals privilege. The erosion of our social contract continues to amend itself in a way that encourages a division of us versus them rooted in accessibility. This leaves me wondering if the unwritten rules of today will allow for the seeds of humanity to be replanted tomorrow?
Alex Munro, born and raised in the greater DC metropolitan area. Alex is a dedicated middle and high school humanities teacher. Alex began his teaching career in Chicago, Illinois where he and his partner lived for six years. Shortly thereafter, he continued teaching for two and a half years in Bangkok, Thailand. During his time in Bangkok, Alex completed the Value-Creating Education for Global Citizenship master’s program (MEd.) with DePaul’s College of Education.