In sharp contrast to the life of an African-American’s inside dog is the dog they have chained up in the backyard. Typically a pit bull, sometimes a Rottweiler, the dog is named after a cognac (“Hennessy”), a hip-hop term (“Hyphy”), something ghetto (“Kilo”), or saccharine (“Precious”), usually spelled wrong. The dog has minimal shelter or none at all, and his living area is full of scattered, moldy feces. The dog is always left sexually intact and rarely taken off its chain for a walk. He is given no toys to play with so he plays with his food and water bowls, toppling them over and leaving them empty (which half the time they are anyway). Two of the dog’s main instincts, to be part of a pack (human or animal) and to live together in a den (the house), are denied, leaving him in a state of constant frustration. He is covered in fleas and bitten on his ears by flies, which develop into small, oozing infections. Despite this exhibition of neglect, the African-American owner professes to love the dog “like my own child.”
Animal Control Officer: You need to buy a doghouse, get some untippable food and water bowls, make sure the chain can’t get tangled, pick up the feces, buy a dog license, and your dog needs to see a vet, too.
African-American: What are you talkin’ ‘bout? It’s a dog! This is the way my daddy always raised his dogs!
Animal Control Officer: The laws have changed since then. There are minimum standards of care for backyard dogs.
African-American: But I care about my dog. I love Remy like a son.
African-American: What are you talkin’ ‘bout? It’s a dog! This is the way my daddy always raised his dogs!
Animal Control Officer: The laws have changed since then. There are minimum standards of care for backyard dogs.
African-American: But I care about my dog. I love Remy like a son.
by Wqoq April 5, 2010