Revisited: Baha Men - Who Let The Dogs Out?

When becoming a professional dog walker enters earworm territory

Photo by Matt Nelson on Unsplash

In a June, 2022 episode of the long-running public radio show turned podcast Sound Opinions, hosts Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot discussed their favorite songs with titles in the form of questions.

It’s a rather broad topic, as hundreds, if not thousands, of songs in the rock and pop canon meet this criteria.

Jimi Hendrix’ “Are You Experienced?” was the first that came to mind. Greg chose the second song I thought of with The Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?" The third song that popped into my overcrowded brain was Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got to Do With It?” which was not mentioned in the show. I would bet that even the less musically obsessive of you can come up with at least three more question songs without much trouble. (Tell me your favorites in the comments.)

What I did not expect to hear featured in this episode — which I just so happened to be listening to while walking my lovable pit-mix Bernie — was Mr. DeRogatis choosing the Y2K one-hit-wonder, “Who Let The Dogs Out?” by Baja Men.

Bernie posing in front of the Bernie sign back in early 2020. I’m pretty sure if my dog Bernie were the candidate, he’d be our president now. And yes, he has ears.

There are so many culturally relevant, worthy songs that could have been featured on this popular podcast — Culture Club’s “Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?”, The Smiths’ “How Soon is Now?”, Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?” just to name a few. My first reaction to this seemingly frivolous choice was indignation. Was the host just trying to get a rise out of righteous listeners like me?

When the show played a 30-second snippet of the song, I found myself less outraged. It wasn’t as bad as I had remembered.

But it was more than enough to make the iconic chorus stick like crazy glue, instantly becoming an earworm. I do remember this song being ever-present when it came out at the turn of the century. You couldn’t get away from it. Even if you tried. And I tried. I avoided the radio. I fast-forwarded through all the TV commercials (this was pre-streaming). I stayed away from Tiki bars.

If you attended any professional sporting event in a stadium or arena, you were pretty much guaranteed to hear that unmistakable call (“Who let the dogs out?”) followed by a chorus of male voices chanting “Who, who who, who-who!” that opens the song and repeats a dozen times, playing over the loudspeakers between innings, during timeouts, and any time the home crowd needed to be stirred up into a frenzy.

While researching the history of this song, I got sucked into an internet vortex. Apparently, WLTDO had garnered a lot of controversy. Baha Men was not the first band to record it, and the original artist, Anslem Douglas (who titled his song “Doggie”), was not adequately compensated once the cover version took off and became a worldwide phenomenon.

Then, I learned that some white dude record producer (and there’s always an exploitative white dude at the center of these things) heard the original version of “Who Let the Dogs Out?” while on a vacation in the Bahamas and was convinced it could be enormously successful outside of the small island country. So he contacted Baha Men, a popular, charismatic trio known in the local junkanoo (street festival) scene, with an offer to produce and distribute their new record. He suggested they record “Who Let the Dogs Out.” Baha Men knew it wasn’t an original and didn’t want to do it, but with the promise of money and fame, they eventually agreed.

Anyway, I won’t go into the whole story here because THERE’S AN ENTIRE DOCUMENTARY on Hulu (update: now Peacock and Hoopla)¹ dedicated to the history of this song (Just search for the smartly titled Who Let the Dogs Out). It’s more than just a story about a wronged artist who never received proper credit or proper compensation for their work. It’s about who really owns art, all the while trying to answer the eponymous existential question — who did let the dogs out?

Do they eventually find the dastardly dog letter-outer? I don’t want to spoil it with an answer. Despite the conflicting reports on Rotten Tomatoes, it is worth a watch. I think the truth is somewhere between the Tomatometer and the Audience Score.

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At the beginning of 2022, I entered the gig economy, attempting to make a marginal living as a Wag! and Rover dog walker. These two startup companies had set up in hundreds of cities across the country, using modern, app-based systems to match pet parents with pet walkers, sitters, and boarders.

A year prior, I left my job as a video editor after twelve years with the same company and almost thirty in the industry. I was burned out, not just with that employer specifically, but with the career path I’d been following for most of my adult life.

I had contemplated quitting in early 2020, but then COVID hit, and working from home happened, and suddenly, the job didn’t seem as soul-crushing as it had before. I’d been working there a long time and needed a change. I just didn’t know what that change was.

Before working from home, I’d spend 2-3 hours a day commuting to and from my home in Oakland, California, to downtown San Francisco. Driving in bumper-to-bumper traffic to the train station (BART), only to hurry to smash into a sardine-packed rail car. Then it was a twenty-minute walk to the office, passing by homeless encampments and drug addicts shooting up on the sidewalk. In order to avoid amplifying my existing anxiety and depression, I had to shut myself off from the harsh realities of the city.

Suddenly, having almost three more hours a day and no longer needing to commute was a huge relief. Of course, there was a deadly pandemic spreading across the world, which was horrible and tragic for so many people. But for me, sheltering in place was manna from heaven. I’m an introvert (with some extrovert leanings) and have social anxiety, so staying at home and not having to interact face-to-face with humans was my idea of work/life balance.

What had once been a stressful 45-minute walk with Bernie at 7 am — constantly pulling on the leash, calling out a frustrated “Let’s go!” so I didn’t arrive late for work — was now a 60 to 90-minute leisurely stroll through the neighborhood. I began paying attention to the wide range of garden designs in the front yards of my neighbor’s homes. I stopped to watch hummingbirds pluck nectar from vibrant violet and scarlet sage flowers. With most of the populace sheltering in place, the constant rumble of traffic on our nearby freeway had been replaced by the mellifluous voices of a dozen different area birds.

I was able to relax without medication for the first time in a long time.

Soon enough, though, working from home and not having a standing desk or dual 30” monitors began to wreak havoc on my body, and severe carpal tunnel set in. I didn’t want to sit for eight hours a day in front of a computer, my forearms perpetually wrapped in wrist guards, a bottle of Advil next to my pot of coffee. As much as working from home fit my temperament and happiness factor, I had to find something where I wasn’t glued to a screen all day.

So, I signed up for Wag! And soon after, Rover.

It took me a few months to learn the ropes (and the harnesses and leashes), but I quickly gained a bunch of regular clients and was out walking pups a good part of each day.

The one day I wore the swag. S-wag. Get it? I’ll shut up now.

A year later, I decided to branch out and start my own dog-walking business.

Thankfully, the Bay Area has lots of folks with dogs who need walks. During the pandemic, dog adoptions (and cat adoptions, too) were at an all-time high, which was fantastic. But now that many of these new dog owners have headed back to the office, the need for someone to take their six-month-old Goldendoodles and twelve-year-old yappy Chihuahuas out for a walk has only increased.

I’ve got my trusty green fanny pack filled with poop bags and a variety of treats at the ready. I keep two extra leashes in my trunk for the pet parents who still think extendable leashes are viable (they suck, and I’ll argue this until the cows come home). I have sunscreen, two floppy hats, a jacket, a 32-oz Nalgene filled with water, and a snack bag with apples and Clif bars.

I’m getting tons of exercise every day (between 15 and 20,000 steps on average). I don’t have to deal with humans in person (except on occasion when they are home when I take their pups out, but the pet parents are always nice and appreciative). And even though I’m on my phone more than I would like, at least I’m not sitting in a chair for 8 hours typing on a keyboard and staring at a monitor.

Sixteen months later, I’m happy to report that I’ve got 15 regular clients and do more than 25 walks almost every week.

Photo by Maiar Shalaby on Unsplash

The dogs are teaching me a great deal. They force me to stay present. They remind me of the joys of running as fast as possible for no reason at all. They help me tap into my inner child, where play, adventure, and curiosity are paramount.

In the film Who Let the Dogs Out, director Ben Sisto sets out to discover who did let the dogs out. If I’d known he was looking for an answer, I would have told him to come to Oakland, California.

Because the answer is me.

I let the dogs out.

And I’ll keep letting them out for as long as I am able. (Update: it’s now two years later, and I am as able as ever.)

• What songs in the form of a question are your favorites?

• Did you ever wonder Who Let the Dogs Out?

• Want to share any memories of this song?

• A brand new Earworm essay will hit your inbox soon! (And a survey)

Thanks for reading -

Steve

1. Update: as of March 28, 2024, the film is streaming on Peacock, Hoopla, Tubi, and Freevee