Man's best friend

As is normal for we aspies, I've still got lots and lots of last night going round and round and round in my mind. I've had many happy thoughts because of the people I was with. At the same time I am bugged by the loud man with his dog. He obviously loves the animal, but I don't understand how or why.
Above is a picture of the common or garden Dog, exhibiting its instinctive behaviour. By nature, dogs are predators which hunt in packs. They are formidable hunters with ferocious teeth. They are opportunists and will readily steal the food from other species or dogs. Weight of numbers, mate.
Why then do dog-lovers anthropomorphise these creatures? They talk about their pets as if they were human. The animals' behaviour is described as if the animal were thinking like a human. The dog almost has human motives for its behaviour. It even smiles, if the person is to be believed. The truth is that dogs aren't intelligent, not in a human way at least. Dogs have learned just enough to be able to ensure that their owner doesn't get too pissed off, thereby ensuring a meal-ticket for life. And what a life. I wouldn't mind it, curled up on the hearthrug at an adoring owner's feet, being stroked, fed, taken for walks and having biscuits chucked at me. Bliss! Dogs are crafty though, and greedy,and the sluts will do absolutely anything they have learned, in order for the owner to treat them to another tasty morsel. Dogs are cunts. They sit there watching you intently if you dare to eat something without sharing it with them.
Many of their owners aren't much better. Many of them seem to have dogs which resemble themselves. They allow their pets to lick their faces, when shortly before, little pooch had been licking his own arse and rearranging himself. Some of them are content enough to let their little angels shit wherever they want, and not to feel the need to clean it up. They seem completely oblivious to the existence of Toxicara worms, which can cause liver damage and blindness. Let's face it, shit is disgusting to look at, offensive to the nose, and dangerous.
The strangest thing of all is when poor little pooch pops his or her clogs. The household is in a state of national mourning for about half an hour, before the grieving owners rush out and buy another one. That's weird. I just don't get it. When a loved one dies, you don't rush out shortly afterwards to procure a replacement.
That's enough about dogs.