I have just spent the better part of the Thanksgiving holiday workweek in New York City. Every time I come visit my sister here I’m reminded of how much more exciting and successful my career would be if I practiced here. Don’t worry, my loyal clients—I am not moving (the free childcare won’t move with me).

Not to disparage my Miami clientele (those of you reading this are certainly the exception) but people in the Big Apple seem to think about their pets very differently.

Perhaps it’s that by virtue of living in a city, they’re forced to think about their loved ones more carefully: Fido will need a jacket for the cold. I can’t get home late because it looks like rain. I have to move to a neighborhood with a great vet. How far is my closest emergency room? There’s too much glass on the ground on garbage day so Fido needs new boots. Etc.

 

Having a pet in NYC clearly requires a greater lifestyle adjustment than having one in almost any other city in this country. Consequently, I posit that pet owners here are a cut above the vast majority of Americans.

When I see a dog walking on a leash in Manhattan, the pet is invariably well groomed, [generally] well behaved and almost always adequately prepared for the weather. Owners stoop to pick up poop. They stop to talk about their dogs (who says New Yorkers are unfriendly?). And they hire people to do these things when they can’t manage it all for themselves.

My sister’s dogs have the benefit of two at-home parents (their office is on the ground floor below the apartment) and still they have a dog runner for their two large-breed rescues. Maddie and Morgan are big dogs with lots of energy and tendencies towards aggression. To combat this personality trait they get a one to two hour daily run (in addition to their two long walks a day and a 20 x 30 backyard) and a weekly behavior session (in spite of their almost perfect conduct). You gotta love being a dog in the city.

If I had to pick the city of my dreams, this one comes close. Although the crush of humanity can be claustrophobic, the folks here know their dogs. Where else would a vet want to be a vet but in a place like this? OK so maybe San Francisco has the pluses without all the people but here I somehow feel more at home in the melting slushie that is NYC. Where else would every other block reveal yet another sweater-clad Frenchie? (I have a soft spot for anyone that reminds me of my Sophie Sue—especially when she can’t be with me.)

If I had my choice I’d pack up and move myself (with extended family in tow) up to the city. We’d sell our overpriced Miami homes and share a small, overpriced brownstone in the East Village. I’d get a job in a tiny, local vet hospital (making twice my current salary) and I’d spend weekends at the MoMA with my son and walking the neighborhood streets with my Sophie Sue. What could be better?

I guess the weather wouldn’t be a dream come true but everything else in New York seems like Walt Disney World to this native Floridian.