Dogs in the house (Americans love their domesticated chaos).


I always had dogs during my childhood and young adulthood, at least until I stopped living with my parents.


I love dogs and I know them well. I’ve cried over deaths of my pets and I am not a callous soul. But these dogs I called pets lived outside the house. They never stepped foot (paw) inside and they were trained well in the rules of the house. All my dogs would stop at the rear doorstep no matter how juicy and meaty the enticement might be that beckoned inside the house. Our dogs knew.


This was owing to my father’s strict house rule: no dogs in the house.


It was a simple rule. As a child, I resented this rule. Like any other child, I wanted the dogs to romp around inside the house and frolic with the humans. It was a very childish notion and I saw nothing wrong with dogs running around where we lived, and I did not understand, nor accept, my father’s decree.


As I grew older, I came to absolutely accept and agree with this patriarchal dog ban.  I’ve known many people who did in fact allow dogs inside the house, and inevitably, regardless of how clean the dogs were groomed, it was disgusting.


Dogs pant, they smell, and depending on the breed, they shed hair all over the house. Their dander scatters everywhere and creates a disgusting layer of powdery sediment and their breath is hot and putrid.  Dogs are not trainable when it comes to table manners. Dogs are incompatible with indoor, civilized living. They don’t belong in the house; my dad was right on the money.  (Cats are even more disgusting with their multitude of acidic and rotten smells, but that’s another post).


As you may infer, I’m a bit flummoxed by the preponderance of today’s indoor dog culture in the developed West, especially in America. Dogs are basically expected to live indoors and all modern home amenities are structured around the presence of a canine creature tromping around the house in a cloud of hair, dust and mud while a their spittle flies around like a warm tornado plume. Americans love sharing their living spaces with dogs, and I just don’t get it. What is it about the American temperament that can’t accept that not all living creatures need to live inside the house’s walls?


And why do Americans seem intent on letting every human mongrel from around the world, even those that would happily eat their owner, into our American house?






In the Huffington Post we learn that despite the hoopla surrounding President Trump’s refugee curtailment since the beginning of the 2017 fiscal year (October, 2016), the 2017 budget, as passed by Congress and signed by the President, will overshadow the restrictions by allowing 75,000 more refugees by the end of the this fiscal year (September, 2017).


The number of refugees entering the United States has plummeted in all states but four in the last few months, according to a Pew Research Center analysis of the State Department’s Refugee Processing Center data.


Almost 10,000 refugees were resettled in October of 2016, the first month of the 2017 fiscal year. That number dropped to 3,316 in April 2017 ― and so far, 3,119 refugees have arrived this month, as of May 25. It’s the longest consecutive monthly decline on record, Pew said.


Resettlement experts said they’re cautiously optimistic about the expanded interview schedule.


“We’re waiting to celebrate until we see the pipeline of refugee processing look healthier,” [Jen] Smyers [director of policy and advocacy for the immigration and refugee program at Church World Service] said. “All of this is really preliminary.”


But they are already in the process of hiring back some of the almost 600 staffers they had to lay off worldwide during the executive order legal limbo.



Congress recently passed a budget with enough funding to resettle a total of 75,000 refugees through the end of the fiscal year. This should mean significant increases in the number of refugee arrivals in the coming weeks.




Meanwhile, Americans happily seek to open the doors wider for this house can never truly be happy until it’s overrun by dogs.