Discrimination

Hello again world. It’s me, again. Doggebone. I hope you’ve been doing well since my last post.

Me? So glad you asked. I’ve been physically well but I am on a mission. You know how I love getting involved in making a difference.

My current objective is to address discrimination.

You might not realize just how bad discrimination is in the world today. It doesn’t begin or end with racial or ethnic discrimination either. Now we have to deal with species discrimination. Let me explain…

I cannot count the times my human mom has referred to me as her “son.” I have been proud of being her son. I am proud to have human siblings; to be a part of the family. In fact, my mom says that I am part of the family. But sometimes the actions of my family make me feel anything but included.

Case in point.

Mom received an invitation to a relative’s 50th birthday event. The envelope was clearly addressed to her “and family.” And family. Family. I am family, correct? Well, guess who didn’t get to go?

Yes. Doggebone.

Apparently it is okay to take me on an occasional ride to the store or even to visit relatives who live nearby, but taking me to a family event is not in the cards. But, then again, even visits to relative’s homes are rare. The first time Mom took me to a relative’s house I chased his guineas. He scolded me and I stopped. I obeyed. That is good, right? Yeah, I thought so too. But I’ve only been allowed to go back once since then. Obviously, mom fears that I will chase his birds again. Talk about stereotyping!

I just don’t understand why I am acceptable to attend family events at our home but when the same family has get-togethers I am excluded. They act like they like me, but actions speak louder than words.

Doggebone is always left out. And I know why.

It is because I am different. Sure, I don’t look the same as the rest of the family. I am shorter, a bit less conversational, but I try. I bet if I was five feet five and walked on two feet instead of four and had less body hair I would be invited. It is discrimination –pure and plain, discrimination.

Heck. It doesn’t begin or end with family events. Think about it. Dogs are only allowed inside of stores and other establishments when they have a blind or disabled owner. What about the rest of us, faithful family members? If I was to stroll into Wal-Mart I can only imagine the reception I would receive. I am sure Doggebone’s butt would be escorted out immediately –if not kicked out, literally. The discrimination doesn’t end here, either.

I have heard stories about birds getting into stores and the employees and customers think it is amazing –beautiful, in fact. So, does that mean that I should sprout wings and fly to get in the freaking department store? Only a few places, like PetSmart, will let me in, and then I have to have my Mom with me. How embarrassing for a canine of my age. Escorted by my Mom everywhere I go. Doesn’t that also constitute as discrimination?

I just don’t understand it. I have been a constant source of love and committed care to my family. Again, there is that word –family. I am here when they need me. They go off and do their own things and guess who is waiting, happy to see them, when they return home? Doggebone. Who never questions what they do and is always glad that they have returned? Doggebone? Who lies at the END of the bed on days when Mom says I need a bath? Doggebone. I have never once seen my human siblings put at the end of the bed because they decide to get their shower the next morning. Discrimination!

There appears to be a lack of public or legislative support for canine discrimination. See, it really is all political. I suppose my situation does nothing to further national (or even local) politics. Even the ASPCA doesn’t seem interested in my plight. Sure, the ASPCA campaigns for abandoned and abused animals and that is great; but what about those of us who are doing our God-given duty as family companions? Do we not deserve a voice?

I think we do. After all, fighting for my rights, alone, is ruff! What do you think?