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Dear San Francisco’s Dog Owners:

The Bay's best newsletter for underground events & news
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Good dog.

They’re on trains, buses and escalators, at bars, grocery stores, and parties. Nowhere is safe. It seems like dog owners feel entitled to take them everywhere, and that pisses me off. I’m exhausted of people who think the world belongs to them. While there are plenty of good reasons to have a support animal, there are also far too many people out there abusing the system and they are invalidating people whose dogs are crucial in order for them to live. If you’re one of these folks, this article is for you.

No wonder there’s so much dogshit around—everyone has a dog.

Why can’t you pet owners pick up after your dogs? (If you do, thanks! Kick back and watch me lambast your lazy counterparts.) What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t own a pet if you don’t like dealing with pet waste! It’s why I don’t have one. That, and I live in a studio apartment. Do you see how easy it is to make that rational choice? I didn’t want to pick up after a pet that I’m not even around enough to walk, so I don’t. 

Meanwhile I developed a special skill I call Poopvision, a form of peripheral sight that identifies fresh piles of shit. Whenever poop registers, I automatically sidestep it even if I’m on my phone. It’s really a compulsion I have to always look down, so maybe it’s just regular vision. Either way, If you’re leaving your dog’s shit on the sidewalk, I hope you get run over but your dog survives, gets adopted by someone, is way happier with them and forgets you even existed. 

“I’m so happy you’re dead!”

Your dog is not an accessory.

So stop bringing them everywhere. They can stay home. “But mine has separation anxiety!” Are you sure you don’t have separation anxiety? In both cases, isn’t it treatable? Then get on it, and grow up. If you drag your dog with you everywhere, you look like a child who takes their teddy bear to school. 

And you aren’t special because you have one.

You didn’t earn any privileges by getting a dog. I do not care if it came from a shelter or Michael Vick’s old fighting ring. Owning a dog makes you no more of a saint than paying taxes or getting knocked up. Don’t get pissy when I scold you for making me trip over your pet or its leash on the bus/a train/the job. Shut up, do better, and leave your dog at home, Paris Hilton circa 2005.

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Stop blaming Nature for your stupidity. 

Did a wild coyote come rip your miniature schnauzer to shreds because you took it off its leash?

Stupid. What’ll you do for next time?

No, you don’t go culling the city’s coyote population. If that’s your logic, you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know shit about biomes and the food chain. Coyotes have inhabited the sandy ground we call San Francisco for millennia. They evolved around us. The least you can do is research their urbanized behaviors, where they’ve reclaimed land in the city, and keep your damn dog on a leash when you’re there. 

Besides, drivers present a far greater threat to your dogs and children. Get your priorities right.

Be smarter about owning a dog in San Francisco.

Remember, space here is limited and we have no choice but to share it with each other and wild animals. When making plans, consider how appropriate it might be—for you, strangers, friends, and your dog—for your dog to come along. Don’t assume that everyone will be thrilled. And for Christ’s sake, do not become an entitled pet owner. There’s no guarantee that folks will give you room, that drivers will see you, that coyotes will give you grace.

To own an animal is to understand agency. Animals can’t ask for your protection so it’s your job to provide it always. Consider how frightening it might be for a small animal to hold its own in a moving crowd. They need you looking out for them. Owning a dog takes more care than some people put into themselves. No leash, no cleanup, and poor training all say that you can’t handle the responsibility. Do it right or don’t do it at all. 

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Jake Warren

Jake Warren

Gay nonfiction writer and pragmatic editor belonging to the Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation. Service industry veteran, incurable night owl, aspiring professor.