Moose adopts a dog, goes camping
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Some dogs are big. Some dogs are small. Some are nice; some are mean; some are empathetic; and some are stupid. Some dogs are wild; most dogs are tame; and one dog lives in Paris Hilton’s purse. I’ve heard he’s not happy about it.
The point is that no two dogs are alike in size, shape, color or temperament. The only trait that unifies every canine is free will in the absence of self-awareness.
Humans are both blessed and cursed by self-awareness. While you know what you want, you can’t always have it. You can work towards the goal, of course, but humans view the barriers between a future dream and the present reality as a winding road fraught with uncertainty, doubt, and the unknown. In many cases, the simple knowledge of how hard the journey will be, or how unlikely it is that you’ll succeed, is enough to dissuade someone from even trying.
Hence the phrase, “Ignorance is bliss.”
Dogs don’t have this problem. Dogs embody free will. They do exactly and only what they want to do, and only when they want to do it.
They might take what you say under advisement because you feed them, but no dog will listen to a command every time you give it. Sparky will claim your neighbor’s petunias with a sniper’s accuracy, kill chickens with gusto and chase the mailman no matter how much you yell. It’s simply in his nature to be true to his nature.
So what do you get when you combine an animal capable of unconditional love and unyielding free will with a thoughtful, logical, self-aware mess of a life form?
You get a match made in heaven. At least, that’s the excuse I used. Not bad, right?
And so it came to pass that three weeks ago, I brought a dog named Pilot home from the Mission Valley Animal Shelter.
When you adopt a dog from the shelter, it’s never clear what you’ll get. In my case, I got a dog who likes the taste of cow dung. In fact, I’d venture so far as to say he loves it. He loves it so much that when I went camping for the first time, he took a bath in it.
This is where my understanding of the dog psyche ends. You see, I really like Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. When I head home for a visit, the first thing I’ll do is eat an entire Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. It is the only thing I’ll consume for at least the first 24 hours. It is that delicious.
However, a hoofed animal did not previously digest my beloved Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. Even if it did, and even if I still loved and ate it, I would not dive into a steaming pile and roll around.
But, again, dogs do what they want to do. So, just before we sat down to eat, Pilot dove head first into a massive cow pie and rolled around for a solid minute. I’ve never seen him so happy. He only stopped when he caught me staring at him in disbelief. He stood, smiled, and bolted for me.
“Whoa, boy. No. Hey. Pilot! Stop!”
It was the only moment in my life when my rather large vocabulary of curse words failed to properly assess the situation. He dove straight into my arms. As I hadn’t brought a change of clothes, my immediate reaction was to pick him up and walk into the river.
I learned two things about my new best friend that day. 1) He thinks cow dung smells like French perfume. 2) He does not like water.
The dog clung to my leg and cried like there was no tomorrow. Without any soap, the smell actually got worse, as I’d just added the pungent odor of wet dog to the equation. Once on dry land, he ran to the campfire, looked everyone in the eye, and shook himself dry all over our fresh food.
I held up my hand before my friends could say anything. “Yup. I know. We’re sleeping outside. Got it.”
I’ve never been so upset with a dog, and he knew it. I had to sleep in a tiny 4-by-4 foot pop-up tent with my head outside the flap. It was about 2 a.m. when the clouds parted and I got my first glimpse of the Montana stars on a clear night. It was breathtaking. Pilot approached with caution, head hung low. He crawled forward until we were nose to nose and nuzzled my cheek.
In spite of it all, I smiled.
“It’s alright boy,” I said. “You didn’t mean anything by it.”
We lay under the stars and went to sleep, the best of friends.
