I was born into the world of social media. I have not lived a day without being able to g on the computer and learning about my friends’ adventures. Pocket has lived an equally fortunate life. But Foley, who became the queen of social media, was born into a world where dogs never blogged. She had to learn about her friends’ adventures the old way: Through pee-mail. She passed this knowledge onto Pocket who did the same for me.
Every dog has certain spots on their walk where their friends stop and pee. Our parents think that we are just marking territory, but we are getting more information than any 24-hour news channel.
We are lucky enough to have two spots. One is located on a corner two streets from our house. There is a big rock on the lawn, and it is popular for both boy and girl pees. (A rock is the urinal of the dog world.) The second spot is further up the same road by the brook. There is nothing like the sound of a babbling brook to make a dog want to pee.
Pocket and I work together gathering information, and we use our super mental connection to exchange information: “Mocha is getting used to her wheels. She came over to pee yesterday,” I say. “Orkie got an alligator flavored treat. She liked it a lot,” Pocket says. “When Mr. Johnson goes to work, Mrs. Johnson has the Geek Squad guy over, and they got into the bedroom where there isn’t a computer,” I conveyed after a long sniff. Pee-mail is where you can exchange information that you would not be allowed to do on social media.
Our parents rarely give us enough time to read our mail. They are always pulling us to continue with our walk. Big dogs have it easier but we smaller dogs have to dig in our paws to keep sniffing without scrambling any of our friend's messages. Then we leave our message and move along to the next spot.
We dogs believe that someday all the fancy human technology will crumble, the Internet will collapse, and the world will spin backwards to a simpler time.
We dogs will continue to communicate as long as we have pee.