by Christina Carson
I’m
one of those dog lover types. I've been licked by them, snuggled by them, entertained
by them, guarded by them, taught, bitten and saved by them. This world would be
incomplete without them. How dogs came to be part of the lives of Homo sapiens
is still more conjecture than fact. But somewhere the love affair started, and
we have been nothing but better for it. They have assisted us with innumerable
tasks, many of great import, but still I hear people treat them as lesser,
basing it on, “Yeah, but they can’t talk,” as if talking were the be all, end
all of interaction. Many people have known the insightful awareness dogs can
bring to their lives coupled with their generosity of spirit in serving as
plebeians among us when in fact their awareness of the world around them
exceeds ours by miles. And as for communication, I found out long ago that I
was the weak link in that. Once I opened to the possibility that I could hold
up my end of the “conversation,” it was amazing what crossed between my dogs
and me.
One
of my favorite books regarding this sort of communication, a book whose title I
cannot remember to save my soul, was the true story of a California screenplay writer
asked to babysit an actor friend’s German Shepherd for the summer, a dog
trained in military, police and security work. The writer had never had a dog
and had neither knowledge of nor interest in them. So on the first evening when
this dog opened every closet door in his house by mouthing the doorknobs, then checked
them out and pushed the doors closed with his paw, he wondered what he’d gotten
himself into. Then each night in response to the slightest sound, the dog would launch
himself off the bed, using the sleeping writer as a launch pad and often dislodging
him from the bed, as he investigated every nuance of the night.
As
so happens with writers, he hit a lull with his writing project, and since it
was spring time in the hills where he lived, he longed to go hiking rather than
sit at his desk. What brought his day-dream to a conscious level was when
the dog showed up at his desk with the writer’s hiking boots in his mouth. Since he assumed dogs were more robotic than
aware, he thought this was pure happenstance. Of course it wasn’t, and the
story goes on to relate some rather spectacular experiences of communication
between them, each one educating the writer finally to the point of acceptance
and amazement with these four-legged partners who so willingly share our lives.
I
was recently wading through vintage photos of dogs and owners, people of all
ages and status. It didn’t matter whether they were decked out in finery or out
in the fields, their dogs were in the photos with them. That’s what raised the
question that became the title of this blog. And of course it is rhetorical.
Dogs have allowed us to domesticate them to our needs and have been pulling for
us ever since.
There
is one book whose title I’ll never forget which you dog lovers out there will
surely enjoy, Another Place Another Time
by Bert Carson. The book has three different and compelling dog stories that
run through it. And it’s not my bias that has me suggest it as a touching and
clever read, but rather that I know a fine story when I've read one. See what you think.
In the meantime, keep
your dogs close, and you’ll always find your way home.
Our daughter rescued a dog from the streets in Mexico. She's devoted to our granddaughter and vice-versa. I can't imagine a family scenario without her.
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine a world without them. Sometimes I think we don't even suspect what a gift they are to human beings. So glad your granddaughter is having this beautiful experience as one of her early joys of life.
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