We took Gus to the Cambridge Valley Vet this morning and left him off. He’s getting neutered this morning, coming home this afternoon.

I will confess the usual male discomfort at dropping a dog off to be neutered, there is the whiff of betrayal in my mind and the slight guilt of many men, the vets and vet techs hear it all the time.

I’ve never heard a woman feel guilty about spaying a female dog, but males and their fragile sense of masculinity tremble at the idea of castrating a dog we love.

Gus looked confused and slightly anxious, and I suppose I felt the same way. I didn’t make a big deal of saying goodbye, I just waved and walked out.

It is not a big deal, he will be home soon and will have to wear one of those awful cones for a few days and be walked on a leash and kept away from playing with Fate.

Otherwise, it will all be over by the middle of next week, there are more important things to worry about. Gus will be a slightly less hyper version of himself, I imagine, and will not think of running off when a stray female in heat comes sauntering by, as happens every now and then.

He will perhaps be a touch less assertive, it takes six weeks for the testosterone to wear off, I am told.

I have no qualms about neutering Gus, it will calm him down a tad – he spends a good part of his life humping his stuffed toys – and my vet, Dr. Suzanne Fariello, who is my absolute veterinary medicine guru,  supports the procedure.

In fact, there are many men I know of whose neutering would greatly benefit the world and perhaps even save it. I’ll spare the names.

When I announced the neutering, there was the curious  response I’ve come to expect on social media, where everyone’s decisions are everyone else’s business.

First, a number of people e-mailed me and posted messages “thanking” me for neutering Gus, as if I was doing it for them, or did not know right and wrong myself. (I sometimes have to remind myself that I have written seven books about dogs and have some strong ideas about them.)

I’ve seen this before – the idea is presumably to encourage people to neuter and spay dogs, many people don’t – but it always makes me feel a bit strange. I have this twitch I often get online, as if someone is patronizing me or invading my space.

If feels bit self-righteous to me for someone I don’t know to thank someone for making personal  health decisions about my dog, as if I ought to be getting a medal for it.

I loved a recent episode about Pit Bulls on Portlandia, the Netflix spoof of the politically correct.

The writers poked both sides, showing families running for their lives at the site of a Pit Bull, and Pit Bull owners running into one another on the street and congratulating each other on their moral superiority – “aren’t we doing good?,” one says to another.

It’s like the people who proudly declare that there is only one way to get a dog, and that is to rescue one. For me, getting a dog is not a moral decision, but a practical one, just like neutering Gus is a medical decision, not a moral one.

I am an usher in the Church Of Minding Your Own Business.I pass out the pamphlets.  I don’t tell people how to buy a dog or whether or not they should neuter one. I don’t comment on their personal decisions.

Should I be thanked for getting pills for fleas and worms for the dogs also?

It would never occur to me to thank someone else for neutering their dog. There was a woman at the vet’s office who had brought her cat for spaying this morning. She didn’t thank me getting Gus neutered, and I didn’t thank her for spaying her cat. It would have seemed strange and inappropriate, but people on Facebook and Twitter do it all the time.

There are no boundaries in that world.

The idea of the personal decision – we are responsible for what we do – is crumbling against the onslaught of the Facebook and Twitter idea – everyone is our business, and we are entitled to tell everyone else what to do.

One woman offered in her humble opinion that Gus should not be neutered at all, it could cause a premature death, and I wrote her back, saying with all respect that i didn’t ask for her opinion and wasn’t interested in it, this is why God made vets. She was absolutely stunned, she says she tells people online all the time that they shouldn’t spay or neuter their dogs, I was the first one who has ever complained.

Good for me. Someone ought to thank me for that.

Then of course there are the amateur diagnosticians and veterinary experts, almost all trained on Internet animal forums, who believe it is too soon for Gus to be neutered, that it will stunt his growth, and   the animal rights people who think it is a violation of the self to remove a dog’s testicles, another reason to liberate them from people.

Dogs, they argue, should not be owned, they are responsible for themselves. How is that working out for dogs, I wonder?

The neutering of Gus affirms my faith in my vet. I love change, and I appreciate new technology, it makes my life possible. But for me, vets are where I go to make decisions about my dogs and their health. When people turn away from genuine experts and real news, of course they will fall prey to fake news. The same applies to animal health.

Dr. Fariello went to school for six years to be a vet, she had enormous loans to pay back and worked in a number of different practices before deciding to buy her own. She sees and treats actual live (as opposed to digital) dogs and cats all day every day, and she knows her stuff.

I talk to her often, openly and honestly, she is strong and clear in her medical opinions, sensitive and aware of my beliefs and values, and knowledgeable. When she doesn’t know something, she asks for help and does the research.

It is my philosophy to listen to her, not someone on Facebook I have never met and don’t know.

If it’s dogs I really care about, rather than my own ego, I will spend the money and take the time to consult a vet when my dogs are sick. They can actually help, and I have learned to trust them.

I am a fan of Henry Thoreau and a libertarian in many ways. I revere the personal decision, the idea of the independent mind, the decision made by me, and for which I am solely responsible.

Neutering a dog is a small decision in my mind, but it is still  personal, whether or not I choose to share it. The attractive woman is not asking to be sexually assaulted, the person/artist/writer  who shares their work and life is not asking to be told what to do.

I understand this idea is under siege, and is no longer widely shared. All the more reason for me to hang onto it and be its advocate.