Tomorrow my dog is going to be neutered...

...And I feel terrible about it. I agreed when I took him in, and I signed a piece of paper to say so, that I'd take him to be neutered when he was six months. Well, time flies when you're a happy little puppy with balls, and he is about to come of age. His coming of age ceremony will consist of his getting his balls chopped off, poor thing. I feel very ambivalent about this. I believe, I suppose, that it's the responsible thing to do - and Dogs in Distress reserve the right to take the dog back if you don't do it - but still... The poor old pup.

I was telling a friend about this awful dilemma when I learned a lesson in humility. My friend said, "Fuck them. Don't get his balls chopped off."
"Yeah, but it's the responsible thing to do..."
"Do you like this dog?"
"Of course."
"Then don't get his balls chopped off. If you consider him some kind of friend, and I see that you do, why would you do that to him. How would you like it?"

I find that very hard to argue with. But, with a heavy heart, I'm still going to do it. I'm going to take him there tomorrow morning.

I'm going to take him out for a walk in a bit and I'm wondering if, after the operation he'll have quite the same joie de vivre about going for walks that he has now? I hope so, but I'm not betting on it. I wouldn't. Poor pup.

There's a battle of wits going on between me and this dog and I'm wondering if after the operation Freddie will have quite the appetite for the struggle for dominance that seems to be going on between us. I hope so, but again, I'm not betting on it.

The battle ground for this contest is the back garden. Freddie has two hobbies - chewing and sniffing. The chewing is not something I really approve of and I'm trying to get him out of it, but the sniffing is something for which I am proud of him. I think it demonstrates a keen and lively intelligence, and an admirable curiosity about the world, good qualities in a nice little terrier-style dog. The problem is that it leads him to want to breach the bounds of the back garden and venture out into the field behind, and a whole new universe of interesting smells, and I can't have this. So, I supervise when he goes out in the garden and he's always trying to catch me out. (Also, he doesn't come when he's called, unless it suits him). I suppose when he is neutered he will probably be less wilful and maybe safer to be let out in the garden, but in a way I'll miss the thrill of mental combat with this pup. Poor thing.

I'm sure he won't really mind too much. He won't know what's going on and he won't know what he's missing as a grown up male dog, and perhaps he will, as a friend suggested to me, be living in a blissfully Edenic puppy-like state, but still. It seems a terrible thing to have to do to an animal whose right it is to expect you to be its friend.