A Doggone Sign of the Times

Yesterday, while walking the main street of a nearby town, I noticed a small sign attached to a brick wall outside a shop. The sign read, “No Dog Peeing.”

Now, the sign was not at my eye level but instead, about two feet above the sidewalk, about eye to eye to an average dog.

This got me thinking. Was this sign intended to be seen and read by dogs? If so, I will go out on a limb and claim that this town has the most intelligent dogs on the planet. However, if they are that smart, the dogs will already know enough not to pee on the sidewalk because the pee will run on the hard surface and soak their paws.

Hence, there is no need for the sign. And yet it is there. And some human being somewhere actually took the time to make it while another one got down on his or her knees and attached it to the wall.

This is what your life has come down to: advising dogs against peeing. I wonder how well the multiple people behind this sign know dogs. Dogs do not pee on flat hard surfaces like concrete, but on grass and trees (with the exception of fire hydrants) where the pee soaks into the ground and doesn’t spread out like a puddle.

However, they will lift their legs against metal and plastic items such as recycling boxes, bicycles and steel poles that hold signs. In other words, they like to pee on items such as plastic/metal signs affixed to brick walls telling them not to pee.

Oh, sweet irony, you are my god and my salvation!

©2013 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.