Of men and dogs

Size is everything.

Really.

It’s a body’s instinct not to fight with an enemy you have little or no chance of winning. That’s why you seldom see a pack of lions taking down a full grown elephant, though that may keep them stuffed for days. No, they pick on the little baby elephant.

Why?

Cos its smaller, easier to attack, and you might even save a few teeth from breaking when you bite into its tender skin.

Why do you think the traffic police have to urge drivers to take care of motorists when some of those fucking riders don’t even give a damn about their lives? They hog lanes, they cut into your lanes and they hover around your blind spots. They’re like freaking fruit flies just waiting to get smacked.

Don’t get me started on the cyclists who cannot decide if they belong on the path or road. Worse still if you encounter a Bangla cyclist at night. They’re every astig’s nightmare.

Size doesn’t have to mean sheer mass. They can be anything, from numbers to monetary riches to positions even.

Just like you don’t fight with someone whose position is the HR manager or something even when he is a complete goon both physically and mentally and even demands that all staff should report on time. Heck, you don’t even say anything when you realize his recruitment ads are laden with enough spelling mistakes to be sent back to preschool.

Well, you probably won’t bother to anyway, not unless you’re intending to pack your bags soon.

Why do you think the police dogs are mostly medium sized and above? You’ve never seen had your bags checked by a flowy-haired maltese with a pink ribbon have you? I mean, how intimidating is that?

No, they get a big ass German Shepherd to do the job. All those shit about trainability and all those jazz… screw it. A dog can do what a dog is trained to do, be it a Chihuahua or a Great Dane. Their only limitation – the size they are born with.

And yes, this size thing can say a lot about a person. Whether or not it’s true is another story altogether. It’s what we call perception, darling.

Size is machoism.

Size commands respect.

Except obesity of course, but there again, you won’t pick a fight with an obese person right? Common sense should tell you not to.

Consider this image from the movie ‘I Am Legend’

A man and an Alsatian. Oh how manly! –squeals-

I bet many ladies will be lifting their skirts just to catch this MAN’s (yes all caps, cos he’s manly mah!) attention.

Consider another scenario:

Will Smith walking down the streets with…

A shihtzu in tow. Complete with a pretty bow.

The ladies will probably go “oh, what a cute dog!” And the only thing they’ll lift is their arms to pat the stupid pooch so it doesn’t really get you laid.

Sometimes, I guess you cannot blame wimps who go all out to buy a macho dog to impress the world. Soft-spoken gentle souls who throw caution to the wind and buy strong headed dogs like Malamutes, Dobermans and Huskies just because they look manly and that their size probably make up for what you pathetically lack down there.

Get this people, these are not dogs for anyone.

And if you have a voice and heart (and bless you, a penis) like a marshmallow, you really really should consider a breed that looks… cute. Say, a long haired Chihuahua. And hey, they are feisty little creatures mind you.

Maybe then, if people could stop stroking their egos with more than what they can handle, dogs like this one need not suffer.

RIP, my sweetheart.

Yeah, he’s dead. And heck, I don’t even know his name. I don’t even know his story, I don’t even know who did this to him.

But I know there are many others like him who are suffering because there are cases where a person’s ego and a dog’s size can lead to the demise of one or the other. Big egos don’t usually mean big brains unfortunately. And more unfortunate still, is few ever realize their mistake until it’s too late.

But like I said, where does the blame start?

The cruelty of mankind, the ignorance of the masses, the lack of karma from these dogs or the injustice of it all?

For which man doesn’t want to swagger the streets with something that’s huge and we’re NOT referring to the thing in his pants?

And who are we to cry foul when things go terribly wrong, when a man decides to go against society’s perception itself?

Before we blame the one who did this to the dog, do we start to blame ourselves first?

PS: My teacher used to say, you have to structure everything before you write. This post goes against everything she has taught. It had a structure, but then I lost it somehow but since my fingers were in a typing frenzy and my brain was on a roll, I decided to just go with the flow. So it may be messy but heck, I know you still love me.

PSS: I dedicate this post to the dead dog. I do not know him, may not ever know what he went through, but I hope his suffering will slap everyone here awake. DO NOT get a dog if you can’t handle him/her, be it lack of time, money or just plain love. I’d said this just about a trillion times already.

PSSS: I got my chat section up and running. Go on and amuse me with your wits or twitz. Just click the ‘your say’ Polaroid, dumbass.

PSSSS: My photoshop skills amuses me. And I know you love me still.