Feb. 26, 2002, was National Spay/Neuter Day, and hundreds of pet owners toted their suspicious little companions to the vet to have them “fixed.” Veterinary clinics and animal rescue leagues across the nation gave discounts to all those who wished to participate, and frankly, I can write no more on this subject in such a candid manner because it disturbs me so. This attempt to perpetuate the reduction in the pet population strikes too close to home because No.1, I have a dog of my own, and No. 2, neither he nor I are neutered.
My dog’s name is Faulkner, and he is a 2-year-old black lab who isn’t and will never be clipped because his Daddy loves him. Not only that, but his Daddy can relate. Being male myself, I understand the value of those orbs, and I can imagine that losing them would be a rather significant blow to the amour-propre of a man.
Faulkner understands, too. He meets other dogs that have had their sexual instincts curtailed and realizes how lucky he is. He watches the Neuter Nazi, Bob Barker, every morning mandating that we all “help control the pet population,” and Faulkner looks at me with those sad, distressed eyes, and I respond, “Not today, buddy.” That’s when the mutual respect kicks in. I respect Faulkner, and in return, he respects me. He has been the easiest dog to train, and I attribute it to the fact that his manhood is intact.
Of course, I know the medical risks that come with leaving a dog’s testicles attached. Faulkner will be more prone to prostate trouble and other conditions, but the rewards outweigh the risks.
And what of controlling the pet population? Am I saying that the reproductive responsibilities should fall only on the shoulders of females as it seems to do in the human population? Certainly not. I don’t have any respect for men who will not do their fair share in safe sex, and their fair share should not be limited to coitus interruptus.
Men need to get involved in birth control. There are not many birth-control options for men, but that’s probably some conspiracy put on by the male-dominated contraceptive companies who would rather find ways of limiting the man’s responsibility while increasing the woman’s. Of course, that could be my own explosive paranoia.
Men need to do their part, and that is what I teach Faulkner. It’s all about education. I explain to him that his testicles are an obligation and not a toy. He mustn’t abuse the privilege of having them. He mustn’t assume that the female dog up the road has been spayed. He must treat all female dogs with respect.
I know that not all dogs are quite as smart as Faulkner. I know not all dogs can learn sex ed as well as he has; and therefore, cropping and chopping ’em is an effective tool for keeping dogs from overrunning cities. They now even have Neuticles, fake testicle implants to replace the originals, for those pet owners who like the look but not the function.
The bottom line: It is our individual responsibility as pet owners to watch out for our pets and their best interests. Not every pet requires the same treatment. My individual decision is to keep Faulkner whole, and he appreciates my decision. I know he does, because when I come home from class, he’s lying spread-eagle on his back on the couch, and as he lazily wakes up and peers at me with squinty, unfocused eyes, he says, “Thanks, Dad.