On this National Dog Day, I find myself thinking about Bobbi and Ellie, two lovely and loving Golden Retrievers who mean the world to Kathy and me. But beyond the two beautiful dogs we own now – and beyond the dogs which I or my family have owned over the years – I am also thinking on this National Dog Day of a dog named Nellie, whom you see pictured here. It was back in July during the week I spent in Decorah, Iowa that I got to meet Nellie, who belongs to Matt and Randi’s neighbors, the Rottos. Nellie is 16 years old, and if one dog year equals seven of our years, then Nellie is roughly 112 years old.
And it showed. When I first walked into the Rottos house and saw Nellie for the first time, she was making her way across the kitchen floor with the strangest-looking gait. Dan Rotto then explained to me that Nellie had suffered a stroke (at least one and perhaps more than that) which had left her with diminished mobility. Beyond her legs appearing to be stiff and somewhat unresponsive, her paws seem to “flap” with every step- a little like the way a person’s walk can be similarly altered if they have either suffered a stroke or are battling the symptoms of MS or even the lingering effects of Polio. But there was something so inspiring and even noble about the way Nellie nevertheless kept on moving. And although she rather quickly retired to the bedroom adjoining the living room ( no doubt in search of some peace and quiet) she ended up spending very little time laying on the thick, overstuffed pillow in the bedroom and spent much more time hobbling out into the midst of all of us. It was as though she did not want to be left out of all of the fun and was bound and determined to be part of the fun, at least to some extent. And for as much as she had grown wary of children (or any strangers) who might try to pick her up – and cause her pain because of her severe arthritis – one had a sense that Nellie did not want to be alone. And that’s the beauty of dogs, in my book: they want to be with us. They want to love us.
(pictured above: this is Bobbi and Ellie the day we left for our big trip out west. As soon as the suitcases come out, they seem to know that we are about to leave them- and they like to lie very quietly and sweetly, as though to say to us “we’ll be no trouble at all; we promise!”
W. Bruce Cameron is an author who has written a whole series of wonderful and intriguing books about dogs (including “A Dog’s Purpose”) in which we are privy to a dog’s conscious thoughts. In his latest book, a novel called The Dog Master, he presents one answer to this intriguing question: how did the modern dog develop from the wolf? At what point- and under what circumstances- did a wolf ever cross that divide from adversary to friend of Man? No one knows, of course, but in Cameron’s novel that dramatic moment occurs about 30,000 years ago with a pregnant female wolf that was badly injured in a mountain lion attack. (The wolf’s partner was killed in that same attack.) The female manages to crawl to the safety of a cave where it gives birth to its three pups, but there is no way it can possibly leave the cave and go hunting for food to keep herself and her pups alive. Fortunately, she is found by a young man who has been exiled by his clan because of his birth defects. (The others in his group saw his deformities as a sign of some sort of divine retribution and cast him out.) He comes across the wolf with its pups and takes it upon himself to keep them alive by bringing them food – and the normal relationship of Man and Wolf is turned upside down. And the especially close relationship which this particular man manages to forge with one of the wolf pups ends up demonstrating to others in his clan that it is possible for Man and Wolf to be friends rather than enemies. And in that particular moment in history – an ice age with food supply dwindling on every front – that cooperation is what makes possible the ultimate survival of both Man and Wolf – and sets the stage for the emergence of the modern dog.
Who knows if that’s exactly what happened- but I find Cameron’s explanation (from my amateur perspective) to be entirely plausible. It helps explain the remarkable bond of loyalty that so often is the hallmark of our relationship with our dogs – a loyalty which, if anything, only deepens with time as our dogs face the encroachment of old age and the decline which it inevitably brings. I come back to dear old Nellie and remember not only that dog’s determination to keep moving to remain a part of the household, but also Dan’s tender care for Nellie. It reminds me of the night before we would be putting our beloved cocker spaniel Luther to sleep. We just laid next to him on the living room floor that evening- and our friend Kate Barrow came over for a few minutes to say her own goodbye. It’s a night that we will never forget because it really helped us know once and for all just how much we loved Luther and how much we would miss him. And so it goes when one owns and loves a dog. They remind us that life is beautiful – and fragile.
