There’s something about dogs you just can’t help but admire
- Bryan Schaaf
- April 9, 2018
- 1465
When I was growing up on a farm, my best bud was a small husky mix with two different-colored eyes. She was the best, although in hindsight she really didn’t do much of the farm dog stuff.
She didn’t round up cattle. (Actually she chased them the wrong direction typically.) She didn’t really fetch anything other than dead animals, which she deposited on our front steps. She likely wouldn’t have done much to save anyone from falling into a well, ya know, if we had wells that people could fall into.
Yet to this day she is the standard by which I judge all dogs. And more than a decade after her passing, pretty much all dogs have annoyed me.
But recently, after years of begging and pleading from my 9-year-old son, we bit the bullet and got a dog.
I held firm as long as I could, citing my busy travel schedule, the emotional impact a dog would place on my elderly, 3-legged cat friend and the general effort that goes into adding such a high-maintenance member to our family. It’s a bit like having a third child, but the temptation to take your newborn back to the shelter when they empty all the stuffing from a couch cushion isn’t quite as strong.
Eventually when presented with the option of naming her after a Beatles song, I had no choice but to acquiesce. And in the weeks since, my floors have been soiled, my footwear battered and my bathroom rug defiled, all by a dog named Penny Lane.
In her first month she’s required more effort and attention than either of our cats or children. Oh, and if anyone knows where to source cheap couch cushion stuffing, call me. I need you.
But ya know something? I like her, much, much more than I ever thought I would.
There’s something about dogs — the innocence, the blind optimism, the nobility — you just can’t help but admire.
Over the past month I’ve come to realize why dogs are man’s best friend. It’s because, at their core, dogs are what people strive to be. They’re loyal to the Nth degree, always kind, excited over just about everything and truly remorseful when they’ve made a mistake.
These are all qualities that, as humans, we often have trouble living up to.
In truth, we’re all much more like cats. Most of us would prefer to keep to ourselves, do our business in private and occasionally saunter out to dine when we darn well feel like it. And the whole sleeping all day doesn’t sound half bad either.
Most of us identify more with the ideals of being a cat, and it’s that perspective, most likely rooted in some sort of self-loathing, that makes dogs so darn lovable.
We’ve just crossed the five-week threshold in our house of officially being in the canine game. I still have my moments when I remember what it was like to wake up to an alarm clock — not a whining dog who has to pee — at 6 a.m. Or when I didn’t feel compelled to stop what I was doing to go check on the dog because she was being too quiet.
But the dog isn’t going anywhere. We’re dog people now.
Even if my floors don’t survive it.