Our dog is incorrigible in a car.
She isn’t in them often, and seldom in the same one twice since we went from a one-car to a no-car household about a year ago. But even in Lisa’s Jeep she was terrible. She chewed through a seatbelt the first time we left her alone. She barks, growls and snarls at every pedestrian she sees. In rental cars, she’s figured out how to open the power windows herself. She’ll lunge at motorcycles, other dogs, even oncoming trucks. She’ll invade the front seat and position herself at the center of the windshield, alert for all threats, real and imagined. She’ll lean on the driver or the front-seat passenger when the car goes around a curve. She’s a little better when she rides shotgun, but not much.
Rita, or sometimes Rita Mae, is a four-year old mix of possibly Rottweiler, Shar-pei, and some kind of hound (we don’t really know), with an abundant exuberance for life. We’ve had her for a little over two years. She’s personable but protective, sixty-odd pounds of potential energy that can turn kinetic in a hurry. Ask the mailman, the pizza delivery guy, or the two cops who pulled Lisa over for a missing taillight.
Bottling up all that energy in a car makes for interesting travels. But how else are you supposed to take your dog to the vet, or to the beach, or a total eclipse of the sun? Come to think of it, how are you going to get her to the kennel when you want to get away for a few days?
Veterinarians all seem to have offices on the outskirts of town. The kennel is a 35-minute walk from our house – doable for both of us, but logistically difficult, and it doesn’t open in the morning until after the Concord Coach bus has already departed for the coast. The Community Connector bus allows service dogs, but regular dogs must be in a carrier. I’m not strong enough to lift Rita plus carrier onto the bus. I would have to get a Flintstone model, with holes for the dog’s legs, and I doubt that such a thing is available, or that Rita would put up with it. And would she behave on a bus full of strangers?
Is there a dog taxi service in Bangor? Would a regular taxi – if you can get one – allow a dog? Uber is problematic enough without throwing a largish, excitable dog into the mix. That leaves rental cars and dog-tolerant friends. It seems ridiculous to rent a car for the day to take the dog to the vet, but part of not owning a car is taking responsibility for your own transportation needs. Most friends are happy to do an occasional favor, but you can’t make a habit of it. No one likes a freeloader.
Dogs don’t depend on cars, but dog owners often must. It seems like a good business model: take people and their dogs to various appointments and outings, at a cost less than a 24-hour car rental. There must be other dog owners without cars who would use such a service.
Some surely choose to take the path of least resistance (but most expense) and buy a car: another example of the American car culture creating a perceived necessity of something that should be one among several options. Vets and kennels don’t all need to be in outlying areas. Services should exist at reasonable cost for transporting pets and their owners. Not everyone wants to own a car, but much of our transportation infrastructure is built around the assumption that most people do. Rita’s attitude toward cars is much like mine: if it’s the only way to get there, then I guess I’ll put up with it. She acts out a lot more than I do, but that’s forgivable in a four-year old.
I’m not buying a car just for a dog who doesn’t behave in cars. A lot of people don’t behave in cars, either. What they – we – really need are viable alternatives.
