Growl: You're on Candid Camera

There is a famous New Yorker cartoon and resulting meme: "On the Internet, nobody knows you're a dog."

Which is true, I suppose, unless you happen to be a dog who unwittingly triggered the webcam on her master's laptop while trampling across the keypad in search of crumbs. Then the mask of anonymity falls and everybody in the pet training chat room can immediately spot the canine interloper. Not that our pets would log on to such a site in the first place, of course. A dog on the Internet would surely be surfing food porn and cat videos if presented with the opportunity. I can't imagine they'd have any interest in the sort of overbearing, tyrannical nonsense that dog whisperers promulgate.

Personally, I think dogs should be encouraged to engage with the Internet, as both consumers and producers. After all, as this very web page proves, random digital images of dogs are much more interesting than anything egotistical humans can add to the Internet. Who wouldn't rather look at pictures of dogs being goofy than scroll through people's idiot blog ideas, dreary news aggregators, boring Facebook updates and Twitter's ungrammatical diarrhea. I would infinitely prefer to study Instagram self portraits of bulldogs in baskets than read the Huffington Post, for example.
So thank God for online dogs, whether they be self-publicizing poodles or schnauzers cloaked in secrecy. Frankly, I believe it's about time we changed that cartoon meme to "On the Internet, everyone hopes you're a dog."

Ho Hum

Most people hum tunes when performing everyday chores. It's a way of filling our heads to avoid thinking about the tedious tasks we're doing; elevator muzak for brains stuck at the mezzanine level for the immediate future. There's a dull droning hum for folding sheets and a slow waltz version for pairing socks. Most popular of all is the funeral march hum for waiting for the next available operator. Imagine a lobotomized Maria from The Sound of Music slobbering all over her favorite things instead of singing; or just listen to yourself surfing the web and reading this nonsense.
I'm pretty sure dogs hum when going about their daily dog business, also, even if their humming, like a high frequency dog whistle, is inaudible to human ears. Lola certainly has that faraway, making-mental-music look in her eyes when squatting at the kerb. Although I'll wager it's not the same bored noise I make while waiting with my pooper-scooper for her to finish. She always seems so pleased with herself afterwards that she must be humming a much more uptempo tune than mine. Sometimes I think I can even see her little back feet tapping away to the apparently irresistible rhythm. In fact, I strongly suspect Lola's humming is actually a jazzy improvisation based on an old, familiar canine standard: Poopin' at the Savoy, perhaps? I've even designed a Blue Note style album cover for her hum.

It seems rather paradoxical to regard a dog as a hepcat, but I can easily see Lola sniffing her way around Birdland, scrounging for scraps of Cajun shrimp dropped on the floor by clumsy bongo players. Physically,  she was definitely born with a Bebop look from central casting. It's almost as if those lopsided ears of hers were especially designed for sporting a beatnik beret. Furthermore, the fur sprouting around her face forms a natural "goatee" effect, even if she is a girl. The alternative, I suppose, is that she might be humming reggae. But she had absolutely no interest in those Jamaican jerk chicken flavored treats we bought from the pet store.

Canine Coat Check

It is an evil day in any respectable man's life when, without ironic intent, he begins to regard those cotton underpants from Target as his "special pair," but such is the inelegant fate of many formerly fashion conscious men in these mean, recessionary economic times.
Dogs, on the other hand, despite the 'Best In Show' pretensions of pedigree breeders and groomers, are generally an egalitarian and unfussy species who don't suffer from similar existential wardrobe crises. Dogs will wear any brand of winter apparel without a second thought, provided it fits reasonably well, even those hideous skull-encrusted Ed Hardy designs if the dog is especially cold and desperate. Interestingly, such animalistic demonstrations of sartorial indifference are not shared by cats, our other domestic companions, and notoriously the most preening and self-conscious of pets. This is why parades of haute couture are staged on catwalks rather than dogwalks; why we use the term glamorpuss instead of glamorpup.

In the picture above, Lola is modeling an ugly polyester wrap thing with velcro fastenings previously worn by our last dog, now deceased. If I was forced to wear the human equivalent of that coat I would refuse to leave the house; but Lola doesn't give a damn. She could not care less what Godforsaken secondhand rags are draped around her bony shoulders. Despite her floppy ear and unkempt fur Lola still manages to exude an element of effortless elegance that is the equal of any pouting starlet or strutting supermodel. She is canine coolness personified. If only her Target boxer-shorted owner could be so naturally stylish when we're voguing at the dog park.