Colin Goh and Woo Yen Yen

The following piece was published by the Sunday Times on 28 January 2007. I’ve had to disguise names and fudge facts to protect the reputations of the various parties involved in this controversial account. I also had to resist the strong temptation to make jokes about “doin’ it doggy-style”…

Sunday Times 28 January 2006
It’s a Dog’s Life
by Colin Goh in New York

The term ‘talking cock’ may be uniquely Singaporean (notes for foreign friends: ostensibly derived from the phrase ‘cock and bull story’, it means to engage in idle, nonsensical banter), but the act is not circumscribed to our shores.

Indeed, some of the most outré sessions I’ve ever had have been in New York, where I’m currently working – no surprise when you realize this is the city that spawned ‘Seinfeld’ and ‘The Daily Show’.

The conversation I had just last week, however, took even jaded ol’ me by surprise.

“You did what?” I said, my jaw dropping and revealing the half-chewed steak in my mouth.

“I posted an ad on Craigslist,” said my friend, whom I shall call ‘Bob’ (names of all my friends hereinafter will be changed to preserve their dignity, though in engaging in the conduct about to be revealed, they clearly showed little regard therefor), “to help my buddy find a sex partner for his dog.”

The ad was titled, “Cute Healthy 3 Year-Old Un-Neutered Dog Needs Some - Serious Replies Only”.

“You’re pimping for your friend’s dog?” I said, amazed. “Wow, that’s true friendship.”

“And gives pet lover a whole new meaning,” added another friend, ‘Al’. “Is it even legal?”

“Why not?” Bob replied. “Provided the person answering the ad is doing so on his own dog’s behalf, and not for himself or herself. Look, my buddy’s dog is not neutered, and is feeling, you know, frisky, so he thought, why not find him a lover?”

“Shouldn’t he just neuter his pet?” I asked.

“Neuter Smitty?” Bob looked aghast. (Note: ‘Smitty’ is also a pseudonym. In the interests of human-animal comity, I have also decided to preserve this desperate canine’s reputation.) “Smitty is more than a pet! He’s Pete’s best friend! Would you neuter your friends?”

I have to beg all my friends’ forgiveness now, because I actually paused and thought about this for a few minutes. “Well,” I said, eventually. “I might if my best friend were rubbing himself against my leg all day.”

“So why not just put out a singles ad for him?” said Bob, spreading his hands wide in a gesture of reasonableness.

Now I like animals. I have even kept pets, for many years. But I have always been surprised to the extent to which Americans pamper their furry friends. Here in New York, there are not only pet hotels, there are ‘dog runs’, spaces set aside specially for dogs to socialize with other dogs. Pet trainers? Here there are even pet psychiatrists. I have a friend who feeds her dogs Prozac, to alleviate their “separation anxiety”. Stores here sell specially-bottled water for pets. The US Food and Drug Administration recently approved a diet pill for dogs. So when you think about it, a singles ad for Smitty isn’t so far out.

But while I’m all for the ethical treatment of animals, I do wonder if some people go too far and anthropomorphize them. Being humane is one thing. Treating them as if they were humans is another. When real people are starving and dying of war and diseases round the world, it seems twisted to be spending R&D money on pills for pudgy pooches.

Days passed, but there were no takers for Smitty, even after a cute photo of him was added to the posting.

“I wonder why,” said Bob. “He’s a good lookin’ dog.”

“Come on!” I said. “What’s the incentive for the other party? If the prospective lover’s been spayed, then she’s unlikely to get much out of the liaison. But if she’s not, then there might be puppies to worry about. Actually, what if there are puppies? Since we’re treating him like a person, it’s only fair to consider issues of responsible behaviour.”

“You could sell the puppies and split the profits. That’s responsible,” suggested Al.

“That might be misconstrued as having sex for commercial gain,” said Bob. “That would make Smitty a… a… you know.” We knew.

“Birth control?” ventured Al.

“Who’s going to put it on?” I said. We all looked sheepishly at each other. “Now there’s a pill the FDA should approve.”

Eventually, the matter was settled – by a third party. Someone had flagged Bob’s posting as ‘inappropriate’, which left him annoyed, even if he was unsurprised by it.

“Poor Smitty,” he sighed. “His love life, snuffed out by political correctness. How can such a natural act be labelled ‘inappropriate’?”

At some level, we all felt sympathy for Smitty. For all our aversion to anthropomorphism, who amongst us hasn’t had our desires dashed by the mores of an unfeeling society?

On one thing we had to agree: it’s a dog’s life.

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