De Do Do Doggy Doo Doos

It's one of those nice dogs. On the small side, distinctly scatty and mongrelish, with blond woolly hair that hints vaguely of poodle, it isn't in the least bit precious or snooty as poodles can be. It has a jolly old time this dog. It does a fair bit of spontaneous barking for no obvious reason, indulges in some car worrying, takes itself off for merry little trots around the neighbourhood.

Yes, merry little trots around the neighbourhood. Minus a chaperone. The neighbourhood is by the beach. The dog came romping across the sand, wearing one of those looks that dogs have which suggest they've been up to no good. It stopped, had a gander, woofed at a lilo and then promptly urinated by the beach fence, a fence used as a touchline for kids' beach football games.

Beaches are meant to be no-go areas for dogs. They are go areas in winter when no one much takes any notice and when no one much is rolling around in or lying on the sand. In summer, however, whether with a chaperone or not, dogs should give a beach a wide berth. The trouble is that when a dog is flying solo, it has a habit of going where the hell it likes.

Dogs are incredibly stupid animals. They can of course be trained and conditioned. They can demonstrate some "intelligence", but their innate stupidity governs their inability to appreciate the fact that they are perambulating and indiscriminating toilets. The dog exists, as with other animals, for one purpose. Sorry, two purposes. One is to micturate, the other is to defecate. Were a dog capable of a Descartian "cogito ergo sum", it would be expressed as "I crap, therefore I am (a dog)". And more to the point, I crap wherever takes my fancy. Such as the beach.

The dog question is one that seems always to be with us. Along with inflated prices, it is a sine qua non on the list of tourist complaints (and not just tourists, it must be said). I myself have developed over the years a demeanour akin to David Carradine in "Kung Fu". Head permanently bowed, not in humility but in the constant look-out for Rover's message from a bottom.

I don't normally do requests, but recently someone said to me that I should do something about the dog question. So, here it is. But of course, I fall into the trap myself. This piece has started with the abysmally meaningless word "nice". There again, dogs are often nice. They look nice. They act in a nicely ridiculous fashion, and so we all love man's best friend.

Man's best friend. It's a tag that does disguise the true nature of the man-dog symbiosis. The dog looks upon man not as his mate but as his meal ticket; it has at least had the nous to work this out. And man isn't and wasn't daft. Had he not started to feed the dog, he wouldn't have been the meal ticket, he would have been the meal. Thus began the relationship, one in which, because of the provision of the meal, has simply added to the dog question. It eats, therefore it must defecate.

The British have long been guilty of sentimental anthropomorphism where it comes to dogs. The Spanish, on the other hand, have a hard-earned reputation as dog and animal abusers, one they haven't completely shaken off. They are, though, becoming as guilty as the Brits in assigning human values to the dog.

At Alcúdia's Sant Jaume fiesta, there is something called the "Puppy Party". Such cutesiness has echoes of the way in which the British managed to make nice (that word again) what dogs do, when the Poop Scoop was introduced. Make it all sound like the kindergarten and we can gloss over what is really going on, except when the kindergarten is struck down with toxicariasis, having had a day out on the beach.

This puppy party is in fact some sort of dog training event. It is organised by the Balearics centre for dog psychology.

A scientific starting-point for human psychology is a study of the brain. Perception, the link between the eye and brain, is crucial. Consequently, dog or any other animal psychology is a form of anthropomorphism, as we express how dogs perceive something in human terms. It isn't a pointless exercise, despite dogs' stupidly small brains, but more meaningful would be a puppy party for dog owners. For those who let their dogs go for merry little trots around the neighbourhood and to go onto beaches full of tourists and do what all dogs do. Doggy doo doos.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.