There’s a grocery store just down the street from my apartment. Around the corner from this grocery store there is a white, metal, glass-fronted box. It’s a few feet high and a few feet wide. It’s labeled “Dog Parker.” And as the cutesy instructive text explains, it’s an alternative to tying your dog’s leash to a pole while you step into a store. You just walk your dog in there! And then you download the app! And then you lock the dog inside! With the app!
I’d never seen it in use. But for months, every single time I walked by I’d slow my step, add a beat of delicious anticipation, and say a silent prayer: Please, Lord, let this be the day I see a dog trapped in a tiny pop-up prison.
After long hours of idle speculation, I finally read up. According to the the official origin story on DogParker.com, founder Chelsea Brownridge found inspiration for the start-up through her own dog, Winston, “a terrier mix rescue who lives with me in Brooklyn” and “is extremely high-energy” and “suffers from FOMO (Fear of Missing Out).” Too often, Brownridge continues, “Winston needed to stay home more than either of us wanted just because I’d go into a store for a few minutes where he wasn’t allowed. I hated that Winston and I were missing out on lots of extra walks and adventures together.”
As you won’t be surprised to hear, the official Dog Parker verbiage avoids terms common to incarceration. (Like “solitary confinement,” or “restrictive housing,” or “the hole,” or “the bing,” or “torture according to the UN Special Rapporteur on Torture.”) The company’s marketing refers to their product as “on demand neighborhood dog houses.” Very cute! One thing, though, I thought to myself as I read that: dog houses don’t lock you inside via app once you enter them.
It felt, fundamentally, like Dog Parker solved a problem that didn’t exist. That’s not all that notable — highly ambitious tech people seem to do stuff like that all the time. But what made this iteration of the tech trope so special, to me, is that this was the only one that had produced a prison for dogs.Admittedly, the world at large has been much more open to the idea. When TechCrunch wrote about Dog Parker last year, they called out the single-serving prison’s “internet connectivity” and noted how “through the app, users can view their dog on the web cam to make sure they’re OK” and how the boxes are also “fitted with a UVC sanitation light, which handles surface level cleaning of the Dog Parker between visits.” When Brooklyn Magazine explored it earlier this month, they asked some good, hard-hitting questions. Like: “What if other dogs pooped in there?” And “Is it okay to stuff my best friend in a box?” And “What if I can’t get him out?”
Please, Lord, let this be the day I see a dog trapped in a pop-up prison.
Still, ultimately, BKMag signed off, saluting Dog Parker for its expansion to 30 locations city-wide, and noting the company’s eyeing of 63 other “walkable” cities that may soon be able to take advantage of their temporary app-based jail services.
And now that I think about it — the other day, actually, I was walking into that grocery store down the street when a woman stopped me. She was just buying a couple of lemons, she explained, which she could easily grab from the crates out front, and she had her dog with her, and so she didn’t want to go inside. Would I mind handing the clerk a dollar for her, for the lemons? At this point I should have chucked a casual thumb behind my shoulder and said you know there’s actually a tiny dog prison right around the corner … What I did, like a complete idiot, was say sure.
Full disclosure: I don’t have a dog. You might say my credibility here, now, is shot. But I do know a lot of people who have dogs. They love to talk about their dogs. They do it all the time. One thing I’ve never heard any of them say is I wish there was a locker into which I could insert my dog while I ran errands.
But could I really judge without empirical evidence? So I asked the dog people. Have you tried Dog Parker? Would you? I heard a range of responses. Like: “lol I do not trust these AT ALL” and “I’ve seen them! They scare me!” and “[two hands-on-cheek-in-horror emoji faces].” I also heard, “I saw one in use and was happy to see that they dim the inside of the dog jail so the jailed dog doesn’t attract too much attention. You could argue that the dog jails are the least worst thing for a legitimate problem.”
I then asked two pals, a couple in Fort Greene with an adorable basset hound named Lou, to actually give a Parker a try. They were skeptical: I was told, “You will need to cover the cost of therapy Lou will need after the exercise.” But they went forth. And — Lou seemed totally fine afterward? But he’s a dog, so he can’t talk?
There was only one move I had left. One foolproof reporting tactic. It was time for me, personally, to enter the Dog Parker.
Here’s where I admit something else that might wipe out my credibility: I’m annoyingly claustrophobic. I only go in elevators if I can’t find a workaround. (Said workarounds might include climbing 20 stories or, like, avoiding the function altogether and returning home.) The Dog Parkers are basically my own private Room 101s.
Nonetheless, I marched forward. Last Sunday, on the way back from the store, I left my groceries on the street, downloaded the app, entered my info, and popped inside. I held the door shut (keeping my hand on the handle, of course, in case a panic attack ensued and I needed immediate escape). I took a minute to see the world from the point of view of a dog inside a Dog Parker.
It was cool — 60 degrees, according to the app. It was cozily lit. I didn’t feel like my air supply was going to run out, at least not imminently. I left and went home to think about what I’d experienced, and also to eat some bread.
The author overcoming his claustrophobia to try out the Dog Parker. Amos Barshad
Then I noticed I had a voicemail. It was Chelsea Brownridge, the founder of Dog Parker, politely but firmly explaining that the Dog Parkers were designed for dogs, not humans, and that I’d violated the terms of service and that I should not climb inside of one again. The next day, we texted and I explained my motivations and my investigations. She said “we take pet care very seriously” and I agreed that was important, and also that it was probably dumb of me to go inside. She also asked me “How was your stay? :)” which I found thoughtful.
She agreed to answer some questions for this piece. And I emailed her really just the one pressing thought. Have you heard the criticism that Dog Parker can feel, from the outside, like a prison for dogs?
“We do hear them called that from time to time,” Brownridge wrote back, “but it’s always amazing to see how quickly people ‘get it’ and eat their words as soon as they actually give us a try. We’ve even had people see us at events and say ‘my dog wouldn’t like that’ and stand there with a look of shock on their face when their dog walks right in and sits down (they like the air conditioning).”
She sees Dog Parker as “the exact opposite of a prison,” she wrote, because it means you can bring your dog out with you anywhere you go (as long as it is near a Dog Parker).
Most of those attending the gathering were Ginko bilobas, the longest living tree species, tracing back millions of years as opposed to the thousands which measure homo sapien as a species. The gathering had been called by the Ginkos, out of concern for the more recent and vulnerable tree species. Ginkos were the hardiest of all.
“We can no longer put up with the desecration of our world,” an ancient one announced. “The cockroaches can stay, but humans must be exterminated at a faster rate. Best to be rid of the deadly human scourge than risk total destruction of our celestial home. All in favor?” Agreement rumbled throughout the forest. Then one spoke up.
“I’ve come to love the children that visit and value my shade. Must we extinguish those also?” It was a young Ginko who questioned. “Are they not innocent?” Silence settled throughout the forest but was soon followed by a bitter Arctic wind.
This is a first hand account of Charlottesville from a medic who was on the ground throughout the weekend.
I rarely post politics or anything else on Facebook …. But let me be clear. I was acting as a medic in Charlottesville. “Both sides”-ing about it is absolutely unacceptable. Content note: I’m going to get quite graphic here, because while I understand that there’s quite a range of political viewpoints among my Facebook friends, I want to *get this point through to everyone whatever your politics*.
In the run-up to that weekend, some local counterprotest organizers’ families were forced to flee their homes because of violent threats. Some of them had “bodyguards” – friends escorting them everywhere they went that week, even to the grocery store, work, all the mundane places that people go in their normal lives.
On Friday night, a torch-wielding mob chanting Nazi and other racist slogans (e.g. “blood and soil,” “Jews will not replace us”), some doing Nazi salutes, surrounded, screamed “White lives matter” and “anti-white” at, a small group of college student counterprotesters who had linked arms around a statue and had a banner. They then threw fuel at them, beat them with lit torches, pepper-sprayed them, and punched them (including pepper-spraying a girl in a wheelchair). The police mostly stood by until the nazis were gone. A medic who was wearing a kippah (a Jewish skullcap) was followed in the dark by one of the nazis, and took it off after that so as not to be targeted. A university librarian who joined the students to try to protect them has now had a stroke. At some point that evening, the torch-wielders also surrounded a black church while chanting racist slogans. All of this not only hurt people that night but set expectations for how the white nationalists would behave the next day.
On Saturday morning, a line of clergy, along with a gradually growing group of other protesters, showed up outside the nazi rally (given the iconography, including swastikas, the Black Sun, and fasces, and the chants, of involved groups, I don’t have a problem using that word, don’t let anyone fool you into thinking these were mainstream conservative groups that are being described hyperbolically), facing militia movement members who were carrying assault rifles. There was shouting back and forth, and a small early fistfight where a nazi punched a nearby counterprotester who spilled coffee on him. Nazis were screaming antisemitic things at rabbis in the clergy line, and chanting “blood and soil” in response to the clergy singing “This little light of mine.” At one point, some clergy did a peaceful blockade of one of the park entrances, which was forcibly broken by an incoming white nationalist group with skulls painted on their shields. The heavy bidirectional fighting, though, mostly got going after a group of counterprotesters nonviolently blocked the way of an oncoming group of white nationalists, who broke through the blockade with clubs and heavy shields. Some people defended themselves as the white nationalists kept charging and swinging clubs. After that, there were fistfights and club-fights breaking out all around, nazis pepper-spraying and tear-gassing counterprotest crowds, plastic water bottles thrown in both directions. A nazi group that didn’t know where the entrance to the park was added to the street fights. Some clergy ran to shield vulnerable people with their bodies, and those clergy were protected by antifa-associated counterprotesters – multiple clergy/theologians have said that they would have been “crushed” and maybe killed if antifa had not protected them. This went on for a long time. For most of this, the police stood around. Eventually, they cleared both sides out of the area.
The town’s synagogue is a short distance from the park. Throughout the day, nazis paraded by it doing the Nazi salute and shouting antisemitic slurs. The police had refused to provide a guard to the synagogue for some reason, so it had hired its own armed guard. There were threats of burning it down coming in. It had to cancel a havdalah service at a congregant’s house that evening out of fear of attack.
The march that was attacked with a car by James Fields was that afternoon. What street fighting had happened was long-since over by then. It was a happy march, it was not fighting anyone. The car attack came out of nowhere and the aftermath looked like a war zone. It hit the front of the march as the march was going around a corner, and many people weren’t sure what had happened at first, people were screaming about a bomb. In addition to the woman who died, many people had serious injuries. A medic who was hit had to have emergency surgery to not lose her leg. A 13 year-old girl and her mom were among the injured. The street was covered in blood. The firefighters and paramedics were great. The police, on the other hand, rolled in an armored vehicle and threatened the crowd of survivors with a tear gas launcher. Police officers ordered the medics who were performing CPR on the woman who died to leave her and clear the area. They refused, and bystanders negotiated with the police to leave them alone.
There were several other incidents throughout the afternoon where white nationalists/nazis/whatever were menacing small groups of wandering counterprotesters with their cars, swerving toward them on the sidewalk like they were going to hit them, that kind of thing, including after the car attack. At one point my medic buddy and I were about 50 feet ahead of such a group and heard screeching car sounds and screams, and ran back, thinking for a second that there had been another terrorist attack and that this time we were the only medics on site, but fortunately it was just a scare – the driver then “rolled coal” (intentionally emitting a dark cloud of exhaust) at the people on the sidewalk before driving away. There was also an incident at some point where a young black man was badly beaten by white nationalists in a parking garage.
There is no “both sides” here. I mean, first of all, there is no moral both sides because antifascists and nazis aren’t morally the same, period. Disrupting nazis isn’t the same as being one, period. But there was also no “both sides” even beyond that. Mutual street fighting primarily kicked off by an attack from the opposing side, doesn’t compare to mowing people down with a car, to threatening a synagogue and a black church, to stalking someone for being visibly Jewish, to being part of a Nazi-slogan-screaming mob that surrounds and attacks peaceful college kids and could have easily killed one of them if the fuel thrown on a couple of them had been lit by one of the many thrown or swung torches.
Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking the Saturday rally was starting out just a rally like others, but with racist assholes. The people organizing counterprotests, whose families had to flee town, would probably take issue with that. The black church and the synagogue, the synagogue congregant who had to cancel a religious/cultural ceremony out of fear, and the ones who had to leave the building in groups out the back entrance to avoid attack, would probably take issue with that. The people who were physically attacked, on Friday night, by those in town for the Saturday rally, would probably take issue with that.
Don’t elide the difference in the questions of whether hate speech should be criminalized, and how communities and their supporters should protect themselves when people who are already threatening to kill them roll into town to rally and then physically attack community members before their rally while the police don’t stop it. Don’t invoke the Civil Rights Movement to elide it, or tsk-tsk people who were on the ground in Cville. The Civil Rights Movement had its Deacons for Defense and Justice, and similar groups. Just as importantly, many of the leading lights of the Civil Rights Movement were murdered. If you think the only valid kind of activism in response to racist hate is martyrdom, you need to at least think through the implications of that belief.
I did not have a good weekend and I have no interest in hearing comments about how, despite everything I saw and everything I said here, you think this is a “both sides” thing. If you find my activism unacceptable you are welcome to unfriend me.This is a first hand account of Charlottesville from a medic who was on the ground throughout the weekend. If you are inclined to share, please do so by cutting and pasting.
Sorry, I don’t know the answer to this one. Let me know if you do! (Now I wonder if Google knows), but play fair, without Google. I still don’t know. I’ll wait 4 weeks (9-11-17) before giving the agreed-upon answer from you. P.S. It’s okay to use the Bible.
God made Adam out of the dust,
But thought it best to make me first.
So I was made before the man,
according to God’s Holy plan.
My whole body God made complete,
without arms, or hands or feet.
My ways and acts did God control,
but in my body He placed no soul.
A living being I became,
and Adam gave to me a name.
Then from his presence I withdrew,
for this man Adam I never knew.
All my Master’s laws I do obey,
and from these laws I never sray.
Thousands of me go in fear,
but seldom on the earth appear.
Later, for a purpose God did see,
He placed a living soul in me.
But that soul f mne God had to claim,
and from me took it back again.
But when from me this soul had fled,
I was the same as when first made.
Without arms, legs, feet, or soul,
I travel on from pole to pole.
My labors are from day to night,
and to men I once furnished light.
Thousands of people, both yung and old
did by my death bright lihts behold.
No right or wrong can I conceive;
the Bible and its teachings I can’t believe.
The fear of death doesn’t trouble me;
pure happiness I will never see.
And up in Heaven I can never go,
nor in the grave nor hell below.
So get your Bible and read with care;
you’ll find my name recorded there.
______________________
This puzzle was written by a lady in California in 1890 in response to a gentleman in Philadelphia, who said that he would pay $1,000 to anyone who could write a puzzle that he could not solve. He failed to do so, and paid the lady $1,000…
The answer is one word, five letters long, and appears only four times in the King James version of the Bible. An 8-year old boy figured out the puzzle. Can you? Good hunting.
I never came up with the answer. A friend I showed it to immediately said “whale,” which was correct. For the answer, I wrote my niece who had originally sent it to me about 10 years ago, without the answer but saying she knew what it was…..My how time flies! So no one in blogland gets the $10,000 prize. Better luck next time!
I gave 6 dogs a bath yesterday. I should give yoga-while-dog-washing classes. I sit on the edge of the tub with one leg outstretched so the poor over-loved dog can’t escape. He tries to duck under my leg. I wrap an arm around his back and start washing the legs on the other side of his body. It looks something like this…
…except the arm isn’t up in the air, it’s over a dog, and the leg is stuck out straight. Okay! I couldn’t find the exact pose. That’s why it’s called yoga-while-dog-washing.
This is what a put-upon 68 pound dog with 1st world problems looks like.
Oh the horror of it all! To be immersed in water and forced to watch half a yard worth of hard-earned dirt go down the drain.
To make matters worse, cats don’t get baths, they do that to…