Looks Odd, Smells Familiar
Today would be one of the most memorable days of the year for family dogs if they had memories like ours and were interested in calendars, which they aren’t unless you spill something edible on the paper.
Dogs are smart. They’re especially smart about family members and strangers. The trouble on Halloween is that at lunch, family members smell and taste the same as always when licked. But come evening, they turn into things resembling strangers.
In barkability terms, only one other night approaches the elevated canine alert level of Halloween. That’s July 4, when explosions erupt everywhere but no one runs. So the American Kennel Club advises caution about including dogs in Halloween tricks, treks and treats.
From up here human-high, Halloween is dress-up fun, when children and adults don unusual clothing, much of it plastic and noisy, and then look and act like someone else. Dogs don’t ask why. From down there, Halloween is a disconcerting world of squealing 3-foot princesses and ear-pulling Darth Vaders.
Such demon strangers ring the doorbell constantly. Once the front door is opened, a platoon of tiny Frankensteins makes noise and seems poised to invade the home territory, rubber head-bolts and all
For all the good things about dogs -- the tilted head, the tricks they perform to avoid real work, their undying devotion in the presence of meat -- dogs don’t have a huge sense of humor. Have you ever seen a dog laugh at the sight of a cat slipping on four banana peels?
Irony and sarcasm are not featured in canine lore. And, honestly, dogs aren’t all that great at pretend. Dreaming, yes; dozing dogs clearly envision Lassie look-alikes and butchers lobbing free bones. But you don’t often see serious dogs don wigs and growl like male lions. Since the entire pricey premise of Halloween is pretend, most canines opt out of the Halloween loop altogether.
Then there’s the element of dignity. If creatures with only two legs want to dress up like eight-legged spiders and act goofy for a night, let ‘em. Who needs a fantasy life when you can, if you’re a modestly skilled dog, be a well-fed layabout with servants?
