Considering all the hippies and New Age adherents here in the Land of Enchantment, it’s no surprise to learn that a number of the popular cafes, restaurants and bars allow dogs. It’s just the humane thing to do in the winter, man. But what about, you know, actual humans?

Sitting in a coffee shop early one morning, snacking on a muffin, reviewing the news and desperately trying to come up with something of note—no, smart ass, it was not this morning—I felt a slight nudge at my leg. And then another. Obviously curious, I looked down to see a mongrel of a dog attached to a rope which was in turn attached to another customer’s table.

“Oh, that’s just Pepper,” said a man with an expectant grin, as if I should instantly start cooing for his pooch.

“Shoo,” I said to the dog, which looked as if it had just crawled out of the pit featured in the excellent Elia Kazan flick, “Ace in the Hole,” which actually takes place not too far from here.

The bitch didn’t budge, so I offered another, more irritated “shoo,” a word that, it struck me then, doesn’t mean much of anything to any creature, great or small.

“She just wants some of your muffin,” the owner explained, again with that fatuous grin.

“Well she can’t have any,” I said, hoping the man would realize what I meant: get your canine out of my space. It took him a few seconds of, but he did, reigning in the rope and whispering to Pepper, probably something derogatory about “that mean man,” ie: me.

A few days passed and I forgot all about my encounter with the mutt, until one day, there again was stupid Pepper, trying to befriend me and my muffin. As in our previous encounter, she went home empty pawed. The man’s grim turned into a grimace, as if I had snubbed his first born, and he soon was talking to the cafe’s owner in a whispered, conspiratorial tone. “That man,” I imagined him saying, “is not a dog person.” Cue the scornful glares.

Word must have gotten around, because whenever I go to that cafe, I get the distinct impression I’m being judged for not mindlessly bending to some four-legged beast’s whim, as if I’m some kind of monster.

Dogs are like children. You wouldn’t just let your child roam about aimlessly, talking to strangers, right? I should hope not, because if you do, you shouldn’t be a parent. The same should be said about dog owners: don’t let Fido walk where he or she pleases, especially in a place where others are trying to eat in peace.

Now, I can understand why some establishments would allow dogs, health codes be damned. And I can understand why people would want a pooch to keep them company. But, I can’t understand the assumption that everyone has to pet, pat and stroke your furry companion.

Fine, bring your hound around everywhere. What the hell do I care? But don’t judge me like I’m a monster for not wanting your dog sniffing up my leg. I have actual humans to do that already.