A Howl For Dogs

Dogs are household gods. They're the only ones who know what's going on, what they want and how to get it. The superfluous details that drive men mad have no way of entering their heads. Dogs do not seek to justify what they were born into, they do not feel guilt for being well-fed while other dogs have less; they do not rebel against loving families in pursuit of an independence that will only make them lonely and eager to start a family of their own. They are greater than what they are by virtue of never pretending to be greater than what they are.

Dogs do not let genuine affection go unrequited. They are naked and Edenic in their natural splendour, except for coats that draw greater attention than the most decadent feats of fashion. They know no shame and are incapable of recognizing our own, so we feel none around them. They enjoy lying down as much as we do, but they make us temper our lethargy with walking, hunting, playing and exploring. Dogs are free and sure enough in their freedom to know that some rules are worth following. They have no desire to usurp us because they see what slavery their masters put themselves through.

Dogs do not seek power beyond that necessary for their immediate survival. If they bite off more than they can chew they will vomit it up an hour later; they will not stew with regret or drown in debts or hang themselves as some futile atonement. They are incapable of hypocrisy and even if they were, their tails would give them away. Dogs do not abandon friends because loyalty is survival and they are not suicidal. They die for nothing greater than the pack, because they know nothing greater than the pack would die for them. If Heaven doesn't admit dogs it isn't worth the stay.