I spent a lot of time as a child at my grandmother’s house. I remember she always had birds: canaries, mostly.
One day years later, I decided to get a bird. It was a beautiful cockatiel. I fed him well, gave him lots of toys and other paraphenalia. He was well cared for and I really loved watching him, talking to him.
However, he wasn’t as content as I thought he was. He very quickly learned to open the door to his cage. I tried every way I could to secure the cage, short of a lock and key. He always managed to “escape.” That last word says it all. He was imprisoned and I knew it. So one day I took the cage outside, opened the door of the cage, and watched him fly away. I didn’t know if he would last long, but he stayed up in one of our trees, singing like I had never heard him before. A short, quality life, I reasoned, would be better than one locked in a cage for years. I tried other birds–some love birds, a canary– thinking it had just been Cocky’s idiosyncracy that drove him. But, lo and behold, the others soon were escaping from their cages. One actually got up into the attic and escaped through an air vent. I swore I would never locked up another bird.
During those years I also had dogs. Those were the days when there were no leash laws and dogs, for the most part, wandered the streets. They pretty much stayed in the neighborhood, though often they would disappear for a day or even more. But they always returned.
I met up with lots and lots of dogs growing up and the only time I was bitten was by a dog that was always chained. He came charging off of his porch surprising me. My mom just cautioned that I walk on the other side of the street after that incident. That was the way things were.
Then things changed. Dogs could no longer roam. And so often, they, too would escape: through a door that was ajar or inadvertently left open. Some learned, as had my birds, how to open the doors, so the battle began.
Slowly, over the years, I have begun to regret the plights of so many dogs. True, some dogs feel very content in their households and seem to thrive well, but so many do not. No matter how caring and well meaninged the owners, many cannot give their dogs the exercise, socializing, mental stimulation, and enriched environment that dogs need.
Worse, some dogs are tied up all day long, never taken for walks, never getting the opportunity to play with other dogs or even people. How this saddens me.
Bottomline, I still haven’t come to grips with all of this. I have no answers. I am a dog trainer, after all. I try the best I can to get people to understand the needs of their canine companions and I try to help the humans see the world through their dogs’ eyes. Sometimes I just want to let all the dogs free. Most will always find their way home. Some will be hit by cars, though let free early on they usually become street savvy.  Our dogs often died of old age those many years ago. And even if they didn’t,
quality of life, short though it might have become, was better, wasn’t it?