I don't even care. I hate dogs. I'll say it. Too many bad experiences I've had with dogs throughout my life. And I never had one growing-up too.
And the camino in Spain made me hate dogs more. All day the dogs bark in Spain. And all night they bark too. And I swear, there're 2 dogs to every person there.
All day every day in Spain I walked. With a big, heavy bag outside in the sun or in the rain or in the snow even I walked. And by night I was ready to collapse—and often did. But those damn Spanish dogs, they barked all night, destroying my rest. After listening to them bark all day too as I passed. And they barked in my dreams even.
And sometimes,—more often than anything else—when I'm looking for a place to sleep at night, camping, it's people walking their dogs who keep me from sleeping. And I must continue walking, looking for a different spot. Because of a damn dog, I—a man, a human—must suffer. Because you must walk your beast to some spot you'd never otherwise be, I must suffer and stay awake and continue walking.
The only thing worse than dogs is their owners, I've heard it said. And I maybe agree. I'm reminded of the other day, of a guy walking his little lapdog. He was a gay probably. Or, he let his wife peg him at least. Or else he was mildly retarded. Or else he was just some guy, walking his dog.
And that damn dog, it pranced round the grass just off the sidewalk like a cat does on a person's stomach. Looking for the perfect place to shit it was, the mut. And the guy watched with a half-loving smile slapped on his face. What an adorable, little doggy I have, he was thinking. He began clapping his hands excitedly, jumping up and down, as the dog finished shitting. Then he pulled a little plastic baggy from his pocket. The dog nodded at him, and then nodded at the fresh pile of shit. The man, with a big smile still spread across his lips, obliged, lifting from the ground the pile of shit with his hand covered by the bag. And then he put it into his pocket. And he gave the dog a little treat from his other pocket—after taking a bite of it himself of course. And he pet its head softly, good doggy. So ridiculous are people with these damn dogs.