NYC Pet Owner Grooms Dog in Park, Lets Fur Fly
Walking from the #5 bus stop at the Fireman’s Memorial opposite Riverside Park in my Manhattan neighborhood on a recent morning I saw a woman combing her dog on one of the site’s marble benches and letting the white fluff fall where it might. Walking past the bench, I picked a tuft of the furry detritus off my wool coat and asked her why she was making no effort at containing the mess. She said, “Oh, don’t you know, the birds use it in their nests.” Having in the past encountered this form of urban littering–and the same birds’ nest rationalization, a seeming urban legend subscribed to by some dog owners–I once asked a NYC park ranger about pet grooming in the parks. He answered that regardless of whether or not animal fur is used in birds’ nests, the stuff stays around forever and that they do ticket pet owners for such carelessness. On Thursday, I told the woman that actually she was littering and could be ticketed for it, and asked that she make the effort to clean it up. She ignored me and went on combing her dog, with white hair flying around like so many dandelion puffs. I walked away stiff-jawed, gobsmacked at how willing to break the urban social contract some city dwellers are.
I have heard some New Yorkers say they believe that commuters who clip their fingernails on public transit, a startling act, if you’ve never observed it, or heard it, may be the most anti-social conduct engaged in by our fellow urbanites. On the other hand, this pet-grooming–rationalized with the self-serving assertion that they’re somehow helping birds thrive–is, outside of violent crime, in the running for the most selfish and outrageous of all urban behaviors.
I think it’s fair for readers here to wonder why I’ve bothered chronicling such behavior. I’m not sure, except for the fact that I kind of still can’t believe a fellow NYer would do something like this, and then bat away responsibility with such an airy rationalization. By sharing it and calling attention to it, I’m hopeful it may lead to more social opprobrium. Sadly, though, this woman was incapable of embarrassment or shame, always a problem when anti-social behavior is afoot.
Your observation actually says more about you than it does about the groomer. Yes, it would bother me also. As I drive my local highways, it bothers me to see the trash intermingled with the ground cover. It bothers me when local inhabitants refuse to take care of their property and it impacts the values of other dwellers. It bothers me to see cigarette butts cover the walkways of local businesses. It bothers me when people speak on their cell phones in public venues with little regard for the volume. What these viewpoints say about me is that I have a long way to grow when it comes to being part of a society. There will always be individuals that do not share my values. That doesn’t make them wrong it just makes them different. It also doesn’t change my desires to consider how my life impacts those around me. My area to grow is the ability to accept others as they are because while I might be able to influence a few of them, I will not be able to influence them all.
Thanks for visiting my blog and for your thoughtful comment. I’m puzzled you write, about yourself, ” What these viewpoints say about me is that I have a long way to grow when it comes to being part of a society.” It seems you’re saying you need to adjust to anti-social behavior. It seems plain though that it’s the groomer (thanks for the term) and the other people you identify, who ought to be modifying themselves, not you. This incident, and another one I wrote about earlier in the week, involving Justice Scalia (http://philipsturner.com/2013/03/18/102-year-desiline-victor-beef-antonin-scalia/) reminds me that there are people who are beyond shame. I guess I find it hard that they don’t see the challenge to their attitude, but I do see your point that few want to change. That’s just who they are, and those who don’t like it, can go to hell. For them, shame, or the sense of being wrong in public, almost doesn’t exist as a category of being. I regret that, since we do, until further notice, live in proximity to one another. Thank you again.