The phrase ‘man’s best friend’ is put to the test
As the age-old saying declares, man’s best friend is the dog. This seems an inarguable fact.
We can imagine the relationship stretching all the way back to the moment the first kind-hearted cave-dweller took in an orphaned wolf pup, spoiled it with mastodon scraps and the occasional giant sloth ear, and eventually surrendered a good portion of his dirt sleeping circle so the pup would be comfortable on those long Ice Age nights.
One thing that is commonly left out of this vision, however, is ancient cave man’s missus. Without her blessing, that mutt would be bumped out of the cave more quickly than a foot-long centipede. And while it could easily be argued the “man” in the phrase is referring to all of mankind rather than merely those of a male persuasion, it seems clear there were no women in the room when the phrase was coined.
My wife takes offense to the “man’s best friend” adage. And while one might imagine her dismay springs from the thought that my best friend might be someone or something other than her, you would be wrong on that account. Her real issue is the very notion that our hound dog Frankie could possibly choose anyone rather than her as his own best friend. I could tell Kristin that Frankie is my best friend, but if he was able to summon up a drawled and droopy hound dog voice to speak the same of me, I’d probably be living under a bridge somewhere.
I’m typically confident enough in both relationships to never press the issue, but when the topic arose in the middle of our evening dog walk with Kristin smugly insisting she was Frankie’s personal bestie, I decided to put it to the test.
“Fine, then, let’s let the dog settle this once and for all,” I said as we arrived at a big field where we typically turn Frank out for a big off-leash romp.
Differing greatly from many of the dogs I’ve known, Frank is infinitely obedient to the command “sit and stay”— so much so we once forgot him on a street corner as we carried on immersed in our conversation. This obedience offered the perfect setup to test the dog’s true loyalty. We “sat” him on the sidewalk and then paced off a perfect equilateral triangle with Kristin at one point, me at another and our mutual best friend at the starting point.
“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Kristin said with arrogant self-assurance. “You’re apt to be crushed by the result.”
“They say ‘man’s best friend’ for a reason,” I retorted. “You’re about to learn a tough lesson!”
We counted down in unison, as if it were the launch of a moon-bound rocket ship, “Three, two, one — come here Frankie!”
The dog shot from the line with incredible enthusiasm on an arrow-straight trajectory that carried him perfectly and exactly between the two of us and off into the green. Friendship? Loyalty? Frankie wasn’t taking the bait. It was clear this dog’s first priority was adventure, and I think we were both perfectly satisfied with that!
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.