Seriously! Being an “animal empath” doesn’t give you the right to literally tell America how to behave on July 4th.
Okay. It’s obvious that I’m annoyed. I detest scrolling through my newsfeed when it’s exploding with this sermon of sniveling sanctimony:
It’s like some of my Facebook friends think they’re entitled to special rights. They love their dog, so Americans must stop celebrating July 4th the way they have been for generations. And these folks are speaking for oppressed dogs everywhere, of course. To you doggie defenders and fighters for feline feelings, I have a simple question…
…You Can Read a Calendar, Right?
July 4th rolls around literally every year. You also know that your dog (or cat) is terrified by the booming sounds that fireworks make. You’ve made that point clear with your Facebook posts. So, if you know July 4th is coming and you know your pet is particularly skittish, the obvious question is…
…Why Not Take Your Pet Somewhere Else?
There are many firework-free zones you could visit. Pack the dog in the car and take a drive to someplace remote and quiet. There are probably some pet-friendly hotels in remote areas that you could go to. Or maybe even the warm and inviting home of a sympathetic friend. This is exactly what I would do if I owned a dog. Because I know that owning a dog is a responsibility, and this is an extension of that. What are YOU doing to remove yourself – and your pet – from the equation? From the looks of it, you’re just…
…Bitching and Whining on Social Media
Because yeah, that solves problems, right? It’s done wonders for hundreds of thousands of abusive and dysfunctional couples. (Sarcasm.) At least THEIR posts are entertaining. There’s nothing redeeming about the dreadful doctrines of demanding dog owners. It’s just more heavy-handed emotional blackmail, the likes of which we’ve had ENOUGH of in 2021. It’s time to see through the F.O.G., aka fear, obligation, and guilt.
I’m Going to Take My Own Advice
I just used 300+ plus words to urge dog owners to be more proactive on July 4th. That’s good advice that I intend on following myself. I know that aggravated animal activists will hijack my Facebook feed on this day every year. Bitching about them on my blog won’t make them stop. Far from it. Knowing this, I’m just going to stay off social media on July 4, 2022. Hell, I’ll make it an annual habit. No posts, no problems, right?
I hope I can have this much resolve when Thanksgiving’s “fuck wipeepo” posts roll around.
About John P. Ribner
Born in Flint, Michigan. Raised by narcissists. Victim of a drive-by shooting. Writer. Singer. Songwriter. Martial artist. Social critic. Iconoclast. Author of “Wasted Youth: A Flint Punk Rock Memoir.”
