I saw him again this morning, dressed all in black, walking along the roadside with a clarinet (of all things!) slung ’round his neck.
And at his side came his companion, charging through dew laden grass in endless exploration. His companion, this animal, must have been tethered to him by invisible bonds of fealty, because it never strayed far. All the world to see and smell, and this dog was content with a man, whose appearance and bearing were inglorious as any.
There’s a myth, thought to have originated in Romania.
It seems that Saint Peter was taking a stroll in heaven with God when a dog came up. “What’s that?” said Saint Peter. God told him it was a dog, adding, “Do you want to know why I made him?” Naturally Peter was interested. “Well, you know how much trouble my brother, the Devil, has caused me . . . how he made me drive Adam and Eve out of Paradise. The poor things nearly starved, so I gave them sheep for meat and warm wool to clothe them. And now that fellow is making a wolf to harass and destroy the sheep! So I have made a dog. He knows how to drive the wolf away. He will guard the flocks. He will guard the possessions of man.”
It’s a great story, but I would suggest a better creation myth for dogs, based on what I know of their nature, and what I saw this morning, on the roadside. God created Eve to complete Adam, and in her God nurtured all of the attributes that, in Adam, were weakest. In this way, the characteristics which Adam lacked were gifted to him. Eve was a help, that which Adam was not, she was.
After she was created, Adam rejoiced. But, in that dawn of the earths creation, when the world was still fresh, all things were new and alive with the power that had formed them, I think Adam came back to God. I imagine he said, blundering as he was, that Eve was wonderful and all, but Lord, she is so strong willed, and I can hardly get a word in. In the strengths that a woman has, innate and opposite, a man may feel diminished. And, the Lord saw this, and knowing that it would cause strife, He sought a way to perfect the opposite strengths in Adam. Not to counteract, but to balance those which Eve possessed.
With this goal, He created the dog, which may be loved by a woman, but which can only belong to the heart of a man. And the next morning, when he rose, Eve asked him where they would go, and what they would eat, and how he felt about an orange orchard…and Dog followed him, spoke little, and trusted much. In the evenings, I imagine that they walked together, this first man and dog, creating a relationship that all of their descendants would, ever after, long for. Walked, and said naught. In the wilderness, this first dog died, defending the man Adam, and as it did, its heart broke that it wouldn’t be beside the man anymore. That it couldn’t teach him to lead fearlessly by showing him reckless trust, that it wouldn’t sit by his side in the murky dusk and keep watch, that it couldn’t, just once more, sacrifice itself to protect him.
And we have inherited this relationship. Men mostly have, and are hardly embarassed to admit having, a deep and abiding affection for dogs. There is a kind of familiarity in a mans relationship with a dog. It needs no explanation, it is a thing understood. Instinctual. As welcome and comfortable as an old pair of shoes, or a favorite seat (here, C.S. Lewis would say, “at the pub”, and I will say…) at that coffee shop, just down the street.
My inglorious traveler on the roadside, who may go home to a life of little wonderment, is invested in a relationship as old as time. What use can there be for a leash, when a man and a dog have found their places in eachothers lives?