Raising an Objectivist Puppy

 Posted by on 4 May 2008 at 11:27 pm  Personal, Politics
May 042008
 

OK, are you sitting down? Then have a look at the cutest puppy ever . . .

This is Rubi-wan DooBeeDoo Kenobi, my 4 ? month old Goldendoodle. I admit to feeling a bit self-conscious about owning a “designer dog,” like it’s just too precious. On the other hand, she’s a little walking laboratory demonstrating the correctness of some Objectivist principles.

1. There’s no such thing as animal rights. Rubi likes to sit on the floor next to my bench while I’m playing piano. When I take breaks from playing to flex my fingers we often fix our gazes adoringly at each other – as she chews the edge of my rug to bits. MY rug, not hers. Now, I know she’s a puppy and I can train her out of this. Maybe. But it brought to mind a big reason I won’t be respecting animal “rights” any time soon – because animals don’t respect mine.

2. Man makes the world in his own image – including his dogs. Rubi also likes to pounce, even on things that aren’t moving. Yesterday we gave her one of those snack bones that claims to be able to clean your dog’s teeth (it gave her dog breath and diarrhea). Instead of just picking it up from the floor she pounced. My husband pointed out that wolves eat mice at least some of the time, which they catch by quietly stalking through tall grass and then pouncing on their prey. So pouncing is just the wolf coming out in Rubi – I guess we humans decided it wasn’t something that needed to be bred out of them. It certainly is cute.

The point (I am getting to it), is that whatever dogs are, they were made that way by humans. Some object that dogs like Goldendoodles are bred as “accessories.” But that’s just a modern restatement of the reasons dogs exist at all-humans want them around. We began breeding them from wolves for their utility as well as their companionship. Now we breed more for companionship. But what’s the diff? All dogs are designer dogs. Complaints about accessorizing are just a rehashed insult to the way humans operate.

So here I am, in the People’s Republic of Massachusetts, happy owner of a politically-incorrect pet that has no rights. Anyone who doesn’t like it can kiss my doodle.

   
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