As I traversed the Ambridge Gyratory System* the other morning I was struck by the contents of the large estate car in front. Two gormless lop eared Labradors gazed benignly out at me, until the car hung a left and disappeared down the ramp to the Councillor Dan Archer Park and Play Area.
Walkies, it seems, have become "bit of a drivies". Man's best friend no longer has to turn out attached to a leash and walk to the park before getting to zoom about like a lunatic chasing a tennis ball. Now Fido can expect to be chauffeur driven there and back again, and spend ten or fifteen minutes wheezing about after some fuzzy, squeeky monstrosity from the pet shop that looks like a failed genomics experiment and has none of the roll or bounce potential of the good old b-a-l-l (sorry felt the need to spell it out just in case any dogs were listening).
I worry slightly that as soon as they develop a playstation controler adapted to the canine paw, instead of a drive to the park, poor pooch will be parked in front of the doggy version of Doom or Quake, and left to get on with it. It's no wonder our pets, like their owners and their owners kids, are facing an obesity crisis.
There's just one word for it really.
* The ring road hemi circumnavigating our fair town, not the 1970's Jazz Fusion Combo of the same name.