Do you feel dogged?
|A friend named Simon, enjoying a day's farmland outting. (8-9-2011, copyright RLMT)|
"Dogged." What a word. It brings up some interesting visuals, doesn't it? Giving my imagination free rein, I see dogs from the past. Dogs of every description, each of them with a kind of stubborn faith in strange things.
A dog who knew when his Boss had cancer. A dog who disliked certain people, even if they were familiar and had never harmed the dog. Dogs that ate certain foods or deliberately left certain foods alone entirely, even picking them out of soups and stews shared by generous humans.
The size and the shape of a dog depends on human-shaped predestiny, varying from Chihuahua to Tibetan Mastiff, from love-sponge spaniels to hard-working collies. They're large or small, long-haired, wirehaired, shorthaired, blue or brown eyed, cold or heat or water tolerant, and altogether devoted to the service of humans by genetic decree... or not. Yet they intrigue us, become part of our "packs" and defend us. They babysit children, herd livestock, help us hunt, or just sit nearby and worship us with their eyes.
I'm thinking I need to devote a little time to talking about dogs. About a book's worth.
What say the readers? Would you like to talk dogs next, or cats? People are divided on the cat-dog issue, for the most part. I'm non-partisan; I like most animals. What I'd like to hear is your personal opinion about this. Comments are welcomed, and even encouraged.