Lately my dog has been spending a lot of time watching CNN.
This is not by choice; she is not an avid cable television news viewer, although she has been known to snarl any time Don Lemon appears onscreen.
Her viewing habits consist of incessant barking whenever a commercial airs featuring a dog of any breed, appearing in any situation, hawking any product. Suffice it to say, I was unable to decipher dialogue in 75 percent of this year’s Super Bowl ads. Something to consider, Frito-Lay, before your marketing team plunks down $5 million for a 30-second Doritos spot in 2017.
I have been forcing my dog to watch CNN footage of a recent tennis exhibition in Sao Paulo, Brazil. The match, featuring ranked but hardly household name players Roberto Carballes Baena and Gastao Elias, was memorable not for the blistering forehand passes, thunderous serves and deft volleys, but for what happened in between points.
Four shelter dogs roamed the court, picking up balls the players had netted or knocked out of the playing area (“wide” or “long” if you’re a tennis buff). With a little coaxing from trainers and the players themselves, the dogs returned the balls so the match could resume. Although, I highly doubt the balls were put back into play. A tennis ball covered in dog slobber loses its bounce very quickly.
The match didn’t count; Baena and Elias were willing participants in a promotion spotlighting the need to adopt abandoned, abused dogs. The message? Even dogs with the most horrific pasts can be trained to respond to human commands and eventually perform simple tasks.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T-4o48CC3EU
I looked at my 3-year-old cockapoo, Macie, as she lay snoring in her $50 dog bed, her head nestled on a $30 pillow bearing her name.
“Macie, come,” I commanded.
Nothing.
“Macie, come. NOW!”
“Now” is not a word in Macie’s vocabulary.
“Macie, Don Lemon is butchering another news story!”
A slight cock of her head.
Finally, I plucked her from her slumber, plopped her on my lap and we watched the CNN clip together on my PC. As to be expected, she barked. I felt a slight trickle of dog pee on my pants, an unfortunate reminder of her excited state. I played the clip again and vowed to do laundry later that evening.
“Now let’s go play!” I said.
I have found the act of throwing a tennis ball to a dog and having said dog return it to be among life’s most relaxing activities, second only to napping during a televised golf tournament. Playing fetch has cured me of writer’s block, served as time killer while steaks sizzle on my barbecue and sparked enjoyable conversations with other dog owners who journey to public parks, accompanied by their pets and their tennis balls.
Unfortunately, Macie doesn’t share my opinions. Yes, she has been known to return the ball but, more often than not, she abandons her journey mid-stride, distracted by something of more interest in her dog’s mind. A blowing leaf or a roaring jet are the two most common culprits. Invariably, I’m the one fetching the ball. Something I must do quickly if my steaks are nearing completion.
So I force her to re-watch the CNN clip, hoping she will realize that dogs with far less pampered upbringings can receive pleasure from the simple act of fetching. I even remind her of her luxurious surroundings.
“See, Macie? Those dogs don’t have a large backyard or a manicured public park for fetching a ball. They have to do it on a tennis court, surrounded by screaming fans. And television cameras. And they must know Spanish!”
She yawned.
“Now let’s watch the video one more time. Then we’ll go outside to your beautiful, spacious backyard and chase the tennis ball!”
She followed me outside. I threw the ball. She sprinted after it, paused, pooped and began sniffing her creation. Reluctantly, I trudged toward the ball and picked it up. She looked at me smugly.
She won’t be so smug next year when she sees those Brazilian rescue dogs in a Doritos commercial.
Watch a video mashup of Greg’s column below
