The Politics of Being Shiba

We are not wolves, living in a pack of alphas, gammas, deltas and epsilons. We hold our truths to be self-evident that all Shibas were created equal, that they are endowed by the Breeder with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are the Life, Liberty and pursuit of Happiness.

Whatever the rest of you think, matters not.

When I take my daily constitution, I can smell the politics in the air. It smells the same as The Man's dirty socks after he works out. There are signs on everyone's lawns, and people argue on street corners over who is right and who is wrong. The television disturbs my breakfast with arguments of right vs. wrong, and high taxes and low taxes. The Woman tells me if our taxes are too high, I can't have as many treats as I want; The Man tells me if our taxes were lower, he could buy me more toys.

One needs not even think where my allegiance might lie.

There are simple considerations that every canine requires. A comfortable crate. Good nutritous kibble. Treats for good behavior. Toys for entertainment. A hike in the woods every now and then, and the feeling of empowerment over decisions of how and where I wish to take my morning and evening constitutionals. I am not asking for more than what Sadie or Rusty have, but rather to life a comfortable lifestyle, better than what my Shiba mother and my Shiba father lived.

This is not asking much, and fortunately, with some hard work and considerable charm, I have worked myself into a comfortable middle-class Shiba household.

But there is more that concerns me. For example, three days ago, The Woman took me to a local park and we collected over 15 beer cans scattered within the trees. There was broken glass on the path and someone had left their mark in paint on the bridge crossing the stream. This distressed me deeply as this is my park and I prefer it to be left undisturbed. Squirrels and chipmunks are easily disturbed and I will not tolerate any loss to the frogs that hop so funny or the turtles that hiss at me if I approach to closely. I protect this spot with scent and presence. How dare others dirty what is collectively mine.

The Woman tells me this makes me an environmentalist. I tell her, this makes me pragmatic. Without squirrels, what is the fun in walking in the woods?

I hear The Woman and The Man discussing things relating to their interests every morning and most nights. But is anyone really protecting mine? I rely upon The Two to provide my required substanence but in the end, it really gets down to if I had opposable thumbs, I could not only feed myself, but I could actually vote or run for office.

And if I was able to run for office, I would ask that everyone spend a day just listening to what their canine had to say. You tell us, if we were smarter we could talk. I say, if you were smarter, you could understand what we are telling you.

And one thing all us canines agree on, is stop leaving beer cans in our parks.


I Am Shiba. And I Approve This Message.