Yesterday I received a stark reminder of the difference between life here in England and life in Belgium. When my Mistress had a new car we were still living in Belgium. It was a family decision. It was as important that I liked the car and could easily climb up onto the seats, as it was for them to ensure that it was comfortable to drive. In consequence of this, I went to the car showroom with them to look at the car. I sat patiently at the desk with them as they spoke to the salesman and chipped in occasionally with my own questions. “Does it have a DVD in the back?” “Is there a built in dog ramp to get up to the boot?” You know the sort of thing. When we chose the car, it was one we were all happy with, their only dog included.
Yesterday, My Mater took My Mistress to look at cars for him. He did not take me. This was not because I didn’t ask to go, or because he doesn’t think it important to accommodate my needs. No, shocking as this is, it is because here in England they don’t expect you to take your dog into a car showroom. Why ever not? What do they think we’re going to do to them? Are they worried that we’re going to cock our legs and fire all over the shiny wheels? I wouldn’t have done, but being refused entry did make me think that that’s now the first thing I’d like to do!
Sadly we live in a very dogist society and even the work of the Pet Dogs Democratic Party is having little impact on the prejudice that surrounds our every move. Showing prejudice against dogs needs to be made a criminal offence as soon as possible.