I have no new philosophical observations to share from obedience class this week.  We did a lot of review, including of heel, in which my dog excelled.  The trainer kept saying, “Mattie’s got it, good dog,” and I have to say, I beamed like a proud mother hen.

This week we also learned about “lie down” which is a natural position for a dog to take, but is also a position of submission.  By “downing” a dog, the owner (that’s me) is showing their dominance in a peaceful kind of way.  Once she has a firm grasp on “down,” Matilda is supposed to start laying down in order to earn almost anything- her dinner, the leash to go for a walk, a toy etc.  Just to remind her who is in charge.  Our trainer says the best trained dogs will be “downed” up to 50 times a day.

An interesting observation I have made, entering my third month as a dog owner, has to do with the cult of dog owners.  I feel like I have been admitted into a very elite group of people who frequent parks, outdoor cafes, sidewalks and grassy knolls.  There is knowing nod and an automatic acceptance of fellow dog owners when I pass one on the street, our dogs stopping to sniff each other as we carry on.   These people smile and say hello as they unload their dogs from their cars before class.  There are quite a few regulars at the local dog park who appear at the same time every day, who smile and greet me and sit on the bench as our dogs play together.

Trouble is, I have no idea who these people are.

I know every single (regularly appearing) dog at the dog park by name.   I know Rosie, the Dalmatian loves to play ball, Stella, the white dog is super shy, Dutchess, the hound dog who watches the squirrels outside the fence with a distant longing, and “Big Matty,” the huge black German shepherd who plays with a Frisbee.  But ask me their owner’s names and I will draw a huge blank.  I know their faces.  I know there is an annoying girl who talks on her cell phone while her dog Rufus beats up and intimidates all the other dogs in the park.  I know there is a mom who brings her 11 year old and their dog after tennis practice.  I might recognize these people on the street, but the chances are higher if they had their dogs with them.

Granted, no one is screaming and hollering any person’s name when they run too far, or are fighting, or when it is time to go home.  Also granted, not every dog is always attached to the same human- Rosie comes with a man or two women, depending on the day.  Still, it is a club in which the human members remain mostly anonymous, allowing their four-legged friends to garner the attention.