New Yeller
The other day as I sauntered through the park, whistling, I saw a lady playing with her puppy. The dog barked and woofed, yet his attempts at communication failed; the lady didn’t understand her pet.
I remember thinking how lovely it would be if humans and dogs could chat each other up, using some newfangled device.
After my walk I returned home, where I planned on studying, but, as we all know, the Internet provides plenty of possibilities for procrastination.
Feeling scholarly, I left The Onion page and headed to time.com, where I happened upon a list of the “best inventions” of the year.
It listed hoards of pedestrian products, such as the robot vacuum and color therapy lamps.
But of all the consumer crap, however, I found one gem of supreme stupidity.
Ladies and gentlemen, Japanese toy maker Takara Co., Ltd. has introduced a dog translator.
Yep, you read me right. Apparently, “woof” and “bark” are different parts of speech.
For about a $100, a collar-attached mic sends a signal to the device, which in turn tells you what Fido is whining about. It says things like “I’m lonely” and “How boring.”
The greatest part about this sham, I think, has to be the fact that they back their invention with data collected by scientists who studied canine speak.
No, we don’t care to find the cure to cancer or anything. We plan on sticking to what really matters. Heel, boy.
Do people really need this garbage? Say what you will about the spend-happy me-ism that sucks all the hard-earned profit from the average American, but come on.
In my day, I’ve received gifts that seemed great at the time, but later they proved to be as practical as a radio station for the deaf. Among them, I rate my automatic card shuffler quite high.
As technology gives us the can’t-do-withouts, like the dog translator, I can’t help but think of our President. When a pretzel attacked the leader of the free world causing him to faint, his dogs sat there.
Apparently, the Lassie attitude is so 1950s to the first doggies.
I’d really like to interview the dogs with the help of Takara’s product to see what they have to say.
“So, dogs, what gives?” I’d start.
“Woof, woof. Ruff, bark, grrrrrrr.”
Translated: “Given the brevity of a playoff football game, considering that the score was tied with but two minutes to go, we felt it best to remain calm, thinking that the president would have wanted us to finish watching the game, so we decided to not save the day, as it were.”
In all seriousness, this product is the dumbest thing since the electoral college.
Do people think their dog has sharp social commentary hidden behind his doggie grunts?
I hope not. I can tell you everything a dog ever thinks.
In the morning, afternoon and night time, your dog alternates between naps and eating.
He loves when you pet him and gets excited when you come home.
When he whines, prances or plays, he is either hungry or would very much like you to open the door, so he can chase the squirrel that has been flitting and lurching outside.
And that’s it.
Nevertheless, I’m sure a few of us will purchase the device, and it might even make the company some money.
You’ll be glad to learn that I have already taken the proper precautionary measures: I instructed my dog to plead the fifth.
