Wednesday, August 8, 2001

Man's best friend? Or - I'm sorry to say this - friggin' nuisance?

I don't want to get nasty letters from my canine readers - this means you, Goldie and Howard - but lately I've been hearing from a lot of owners who love their dogs but, well, need a little break.

``I just want to go out for a walk alone, without Coco,'' Coco's owner confided the other night.

She likes to stroll around Jamaica Pond or along the Esplanade, but her Weimaraner prefers the Arboretum, where she can run free.

Guess where they go.

``This sounds weird,'' Coco's owner added, ``but I'm almost happy about the heat. I can go to the gym, and there's no way I could take her there.''

Not yet, at least. But who knows? With the way many stores cater to dogs these days - there are water bowls outside and Milk Bones inside - how long will it be until Gold's Gym has a pooch treadmill so members can ``walk'' their dogs while they climb a neighboring StairMaster, or ride a stationary bike.

``I can't believe I'm saying this,'' admitted the owner of another dog, a mixed breed named Mugsy, ``but I just keep telling myself `two more years.' ''

That's how long Mugsy, a mixed breed, has left on his life-expectancy chart.

``It's gotten to the point where the jingling of his collar bothers me,'' she said. ``I know it's not his fault. We're the ones who make him wear it.''

``Don't use my dog's real name,'' another Weimaraner owner said. She was about to leave for a three-week Nantucket vacation without ``Charles.''

President Bush may be taking a ``working'' vacation (why work on vacation when you don't work at work?), but Charles' family wanted some true R & R.

They wanted to lie in bed in the morning without being stared at by big eyes, to put on running shoes without him dashing toward the door, to have people over without having to yell ``Charles!'' and grab his collar as he welcomed each guest with a friendly nip.

``His enthusiasm is starting to bug me,'' the owner said, whispering into the phone. (Charles, of course, was in earshot.)

``It's not the enthusiasm,'' the owner of a pointer-Great Dane mix said, ``it's the neediness.''

When she gets home from work, her husband, her daughter and Karl are all waiting at the door for her, all wanting attention or food or a ride somewhere.

``I'm like, `You're a dog. Go to the back of the line.' ''

But Karl doesn't see it that way.

What's with dogs these days?

Part of the problem may be that some owners are spoiling it for the rest of the group. Dogs who used to be happy with a pat on the way out the door and a can of Alpo have developed a sense of entitlement. They've seen one too many TV news features about dogs who have their portraits done in oil, whose owners cook them organic dinners, who see shrinks if they're the slightest bit unhappy.

Speaking of shrinks, maybe the dogs aren't the ones who need them.