Today I noticed the search phrase “what does dog is my copilot mean” was used to reach my site. Since I titled my site “Dog Is My Copilot” I’m not surprised the person searching for an answer to that question clicked through to my site. But they were probably unsatisfied since I don’t explain what the term means (even to me). So I’m going to do so in this article.
I’m an atheist. So on one level it is an obvious satirical poke at the “God is my copilot” phrase used by so many Christians. If God is your copilot I don’t want to be anywhere near you when you’re driving. God has terrible aim and judgement for any supposedly omniscient omnipotent being. Please, do not let God tell you when to make a left turn.
On a more serious note the phrase means that canines are my non-human companions. The dogs in my life give me a reason to go for a walk around my neighborhood. I can count on my dogs to accept and reciprocate affection. They help me notice things that are important. Like that squirrel which is only two meters away and is probably very tasty. Cats (felids) are okay but I’ll always be a dog person.
Recently my next door neighbor acquired a female puppy. My two male dogs have been having a great time playing with the puppy. I finally grabbed my expensive Canon 5D Mark III DSLR camera, put the 50mm lens on it, and recorded the dogs playing a couple of nights ago. This is the first time I’ve used the video feature of the camera and was pleasantly surprised. Especially since it was late evening and the light level was low. The videos I’ve embedded below are approximately half the resolution of the original.
This video includes another neighbor’s dog, buddy, a Boston Terrier, who stopped by unexpectedly.
Here we see Cronut, my neighbor’s puppy, playing with Hank, my Chihuahua/Terrier mix. The Black Lab/Basset Hound mix that is only interested in the tennis ball is my other dog Junior.
Here we have two children who regularly come by to play with the dogs make an appearance.
I originally chose “Life Itself” because I started this blog shortly after seeing the movie about Roger Ebert’s life. That movie is a must see for anyone who still watches movies (excluding crap like “Transformers”) in a theatre. And, frankly, I was at something of a loss for a pithy title. But after some reflection I’ve decided to change the name to something that better reflects what I find important:
- my love of dogs, and
- my atheism.
Hence the new name “Dog Is My Copilot”.
So I’m leaving the Safeway grocery store this afternoon and I see a panting dog in a Toyota RAV 4 (small SUV) with all the windows rolled up in direct sun with the ambient temperature 85°F (29°C). I have the store manager page the owner. Another bystander calls the police. Ten minutes later the moron comes out of the store. I express my displeasure. The moron claims not to speak english (but pretty clearly does). She rolls down the windows two inches and goes back into the store. A few minutes later she comes out with one item. She moves the car twenty meters. It’s still in direct sun. She goes back into the store.
More time passes (perhaps ten minutes). She comes out of the store a third time. Just as she begins backing out of the parking spot the police arrive. Hooray. I stand behind her vehicle until the officer can park and get out of his vehicle. I hope he wrote her a citation but more likely is he gave her a lecture. Hopefully that will be enough to keep her from killing her dog tomorrow when the temperature is predicted to hit 99°F (38°C).
If you want to kill your dog do it in a more humane fashion than baking it in your car.
There is a wonderful and sad story in pictures about the final day of a canine companions life. That prompted me to write about one of my extra special companions: Einstein the German Shepherd.
Einstein was born sometime around 1997-07-01. I say “around” because I found him as a stray when he was approximately six months old. The pictures below are from when he was roughly five years old. In his senior years he loved to lay in the front yard or on the sidewalk in the evening and observe the neighborhood. When people and other dogs walked by he just watched them. Even two years after his death neighbors still ask me about him. He was the only dog I’ve lived with that I would trust unattended with children of any age.
Einstein and I made that final trip to the vet on 2012-03-26. As with the dog in the aforementioned story Einstein suffered from cancer (an abdominal tumor). It didn’t seem to bother him until the last two weeks of his life when he started showing a lack of enthusiasm for going on a walk. When he stopped eating I knew it was time to grant him the final kindness of a gentle death. Too bad we can’t do the same thing for the humans we love. Yet another reason to despise religious dogma.