Going to the dogs

He’s unlikely to remember it but Iain Duncan Smith once fell on me on the tube.

Not an arse-over-elbow nosedive type fall - more a clumsy collision resulting from his inelegant pole-dance round the handrail when the tube lurched but if I’d stood aside rather than righted him he would have hit the floor.

I hadn’t much rated IDS before this happened - uncharismatic,...eurosceptic,...as-tory-as-they-come - and following his mumbled, no-eye-contact, barely there acknowledgement on the Central line I had little cause to adjust that thinking.

However, I confess more recently to feeling momentarily endeared towards the former conservative party leader for reasons as novel as the change of heart itself: dogs.

Bear with,…

Since lockdowns first became a feature of our lives a year ago the demand for dogs has rocketed, with breeders, buyers and rescue centres reporting unprecedented levels of interest from people who deprived of human connection have increasingly sought out the canine variety - or more simply from those assigned to work from home indefinitely who felt their lives could now practically accommodate the dog they’d always dreamed of having if only they weren’t out at the office all day.

I get it. I’ve got a dog. And I get it. A dog is the thing you didn’t realise was missing from your life until you have one in it. Not in an IKEA kitchen tool kind of way but in a profound and transformative one.

Quite simply, dogs add value. Having a dog in your life effectively gives you license to behave in a way that is conducive to better wellbeing. To coo, to cuddle, to walk lots, to be daft. It’s like perennially having a toddler around. And anyone who’s lived with one of those knows they bring with them a kind of madness, a wonderful and illuminating eccentricity that infuses all around. Dogs are sort of the same. OK they’re voiceless which toddlers rarely are but they’re still expressive and demonstrative and utterly comedic. Ever seen a dog race joyous laps of a room when a favourite person visits? Watched their tail beat in delight at the sound of your voice? Caught one giving you the side eye in a down moment?? Hilarious. And they are so loving. My dog will hop onto my lap, place his paws on my shoulders, look into my eyes, and hold. my. gaze. It’s nothing short of intimate.

Dogs don’t flounce, slam doors, answer back, or give the silent treatment. (Well...they do, but you know what I mean). My dog is the least complicated creature in my life: consistently adoring, emotionally sophisticated (dogs instinctively live in the moment - something we humans strive a lifetime to master) and brilliantly bonkers. No wonder people have sought out their company in lockdown. Dogs = family. Absent the undercurrents and politics.

Don’t get me wrong. The early days were tough. New puppies may be cute but they are hard. work: the shoes that were shredded through teething, the cushions that were disemboweled for fun, the evenings that were curtailed because we couldn’t leave him alone for too long, and the mornings that began by sluicing liquid shit from a fabric kennel. Having a puppy is a bit like trying to integrate someone with severe behavioural issues into your family - expect wanton destruction and dirty protests. I can distinctly remember standing under a brolly in the garden trying to coax ours to pee outside of the house whilst he attempted to part maul, part mount the brown sheepskin boots I had on and thinking to myself: what the f*ck have I brought into my life?

It didn’t last. It’s all just bonding behaviour at the end of the day. The clouds eventually parted, and the despair morphed into something revelatory, overwhelming and boundless: puppy love.

It's a thing of joy that increasingly more of us would like to have in our lives. So many however that supply has been unable to meet demand. There’s a ‘puppy shortage.’ And the imbalance between the two is such that prices have soared. COVID year II, three terms of incarceration in, and anyone who like myself is prone occasionally to browsing online through pictures of cute little fur babies the likes of which they vaguely aspire to one day have in their lives won’t be surprised to discover that their favourite breed could set them back the best part of four thousand pounds a puppy. Four thousand pounds! That’s a mortgage deposit! (Well...not in London, granted). It’s a trip to New York. Two to a few months rent. A new face. It’s a lot. of. money.

Little wonder then that commensurate with the hike in the price of dogs has been an increase in the occurrence of their theft. Yes - dog rustling is on the rise. Who would’ve imagined that to be a by-product of a burgeoning global pandemic back in the early days of COVID-19?

In the south east alone canine thefts have risen 33% in the last year. Dog walkers have reported being approached in the street and threatened with or even subjected to violence by thieves intent on stealing their beloved pets to fuel a black market that’s been doing a grand trade since the legitimate one became so expensive. Imagine! Mugged, for your dog! And get this - currently the only legal protection afforded to dogs and their families in such circumstances is the 1968 Theft Act which recognises your living, breathing, adored and irreplaceable pet in the same category as say...a laptop. In other words, in the eyes of the law: dogs = property.

Here’s where the Right Hon. Underground Pole-Dancer comes in. I’m not about to join his party or start a fan club anytime soon but Iain Duncan Smith has been vocal in calling out this anomaly and is lobbying for stricter penalties against those who violently wrench or even non-violently steal dogs from their families. Other politicians are doing the same, of course but none that I have a tube-based or any other anecdote about. I hope they and IDS are successful. Coming late to having a dog in my life I appreciate all the more what he’s brought to it and can every bit imagine how devastating the theft of a pet must be. Laptops have come and gone in those nine years. I haven't buried one yet.