Big Dog Small Dog

One sunny Saturday last summer, my 85-pound Lab-Shepherd cross, Sooke, and I found ourselves sniffing around a swank canine boutique in search of a fabulous new collar and, naturally, a few complimentary treats. Brimming over with X-X-S four-legged fashions, the trendy yet tiny store offered about as much floor space as a Twister mat and, with a large dog in tow, felt marginally more comfortable.

As if our physical surroundings weren’t enough to make us long for the canine equivalent to Big & Tall, the fact that the boutique’s lone sales associate went out of her way to completely ignore us—despite the fact that we were her only customers—made the point clear enough. But just in case we missed it, the arrival of a new customer and her Miniature Pinscher left little room for doubt.

Going from zero to friendly in 1.3 seconds, the now-bubbly saleswoman was all pats and smiles, reaching behind the counter to reveal a stash of gourmet treats as Sooke looked on drooling and my blood simmered.

I’d like to think that we dog people are a pretty tolerant bunch. I mean, you’d have to be to put up with all the barking, whining, shedding, chewing, growling, scratching, digging, and pooping. And yet, though many of us wouldn’t dream of discriminating against other human beings on the basis of their race or physical characteristics, getting snubbed got me thinking about whether dog owners discriminate against each other’s dogs on the basis of their breed and/or size.