At some point in history, men began the process of domesticating wolves. It is one of a long list of things that we are grateful for even though we haven't the foggiest idea what possessed him to do it in the first place. It's like Jello. Jello is great, but it started out something like this:
Researcher #1: When we boil all these cow hides and bones we get this wobbly clear goo.
Researcher #2: Yes, but can we eat it?
I can only imagine a similarly bizarre conversation at the opening of the canine domestication project.
Man: Hey, you know those big, hairy, toothy things that travel around in packs and kill just about anything they come across?
Woman: You mean the ones that ate my brother Carl?
Man: Yeah, those. How would you like one in our tent?
Somehow though, it worked. We gave the wolf floppy ears and a waggly tail and shame, and it gave us a pile of poo at the foot of our bed every morning, and unconditional devotion. We also made it absolutely puddle-drooling, pants-eating, nose-licking insane. Perhaps there is some fundamental rule at work: The closer a wild creature comes to being civilized, the higher the probability it will fall off its rocker.
My dog ate a plum tree this morning. We don't know why. I don't know if the dog knows why. If it could speak we might ask it why. I suspect the answer would be something like, "Bugs! Covered in Bugs!" or perhaps, "When is it time for pudding, nurse?"
The dog of my teenage years liked to eat rocks. The dog my wife had in college had obsessive compulsive disorder and was addicted to things that went "squeak." Attempting carnal acts on legs or pieces of furniture has become so common among dogs that we accept it as normal, without ever once asking why it would be normal. I have seen a lot of nature shows and Animal Planet specials, but have never once seen a video of a timber wolf romancing a tree stump.
Perhaps they were doomed from the beginning. I mean, it's got to be hard to catch a wolf and try to tame it. Perhaps these ancient geneticists were forced to work with the materials they were able to gather.
Wolf Breeder 1: So, which one do we grab?
Wolf Breeder 2: Well, that one looks pretty mean. I just saw him rip the throat out of a mountain lion. Those two over there all covered in scars and snarling; I wouldn't want to mess with them.
Wolf Breeder 1: Hey, that one just ate 5 pine cones and then shagged a porcupine.
Wolf Breeder 2: Grab him.
1 comment:
My childhood dog (one of them) was not bright either. We visited my grandma once once and came back home to find him on lying on the porch. He had eaten some 40 feet of little LED lights from the steps. Then waltzed next door and was kicked by a horse. We used to feed him rocks.
And yet, he would walk a 200 yards out of his way to cross under 3040 so as to avoid the cars.
Post a Comment