Thank you, Caitlin, and thanks to all the faculty here at Best Friends Obedience School. We appreciate that you’ve taken your day off to send us — the graduates of the class of 2023 — into the cold, cruel dog park of reality.
Second, I’d like to thank all of the “parents” who stood by us — literally and financially — while we took our first steps, then heeled while walking on a leash. Many of those folks didn’t attend schools as prestigious as Best Friends, but they came out okay. It bodes well for us, whose training set our folks back a sum in the low three figures, unless they used the $5 off coupon that came with our first large bag of dog chow.
Fellow classmates — well, we did it! It’s been a tough six weeks of sitting, staying, lying down . . . and for what, you may ask? Well, to make us productive and obedient members of the canine community — to the extent that’s possible.
For the doubters on that subject I say–take a look at the end of your leash. What do you see there? Someone who’s probably spent 16 years — or more — learning to obey commands from someone above them. Now think about the big house they live in, the canned food they buy you, the expensive slippers they leave lying around for you to chew on. Don’t listen to the strays–obedience pays.
We were fortunate in that our time passed quickly, in “dog years,” as they say. To a human, a comparable degree takes seven times as long, and then there are the student loans to repay. Best Friends helped us see the folly of going into debt to pay for a potentially useless degree by requiring up-front payment of tuition with a major credit card.
There’s a lot of talk about the sad state of higher education these days, but I think we gave the lie to that supposed truth. We came from all breeds — the most diverse class ever at Best Friends — and somehow we all managed to get along. There was none of the division that you find on human campuses–a separate dorm for pit bulls, a separate curriculum in “French Poodle Studies.” Thanks to Best Friends — and an occasional sharp pull on our leashes — we are the hope of dogkind, and an example for mankind.
Yes, we nipped at each other every now and then, but you can’t expect to bring a group of un-neutered males together, plunk them down before an instructor droning on for hours from a syllabus, and not have things get out of hand every once in a while. Nonetheless, we will leave behind a legacy of public service; we never took a dump outside without a human to clean it up.
Some of our friendships were deeper than others, and we’ll look back on them with fondness. In the case of Missy — who’s expecting by Fritz — you and your humans will have a German Shepherd-Shih Tzu mix to remind you of your youthful romance for years to come.
Finally, one note of condolence before I close. To Rex — class salutatorian — tough luck pal, but don’t blame me. You had your chance, and you blew it. Did I tell you to chase that squirrel during the off-leash training test? I don’t think so.
So before we leave this hallowed strip mall, let us take a moment to cherish our success, and look forward to a bright future. You know why?
Because we’re good dogs. We are all . . . very good dogs.