Recently I had the pleasure of driving with a couple of friends through the rural area where I grew up. Short of time and daylight, we made just two stops one at an art gallery, and one at the end of the driveway of a friend who was not home. Curiously, at both stops, my friends and I were greeted by exceedingly friendly and I couldnt help but notice collarless dogs.
The dog at the first stop was a puppy, almost an adolescent. He belonged to the young woman who was staffing the art gallery and who wasnt terribly quick to chase after him as he galloped out the open door of the gallery and greeted us as we got out of my car. A Pit-mix, the puppy seemed confident and sociable, without any of the overweening cockiness that sometimes foreshadows aggression.
We parked outside the gates of my friends ranch at our next stop, so we could pet his horses over the fence. As we took in the rural scene, a red female dog trotted down the hill from a neighboring farm, tail wagging furiously. Another mixed-breed, this dog was incredibly affectionate without being overexuberant. When my friend kneeled down to pet her, she gently jumped up and placed her paws on my friends shoulders, licked her face, and then rested her chin on my friends head, eyes squinting in joy. (I had to take a picture; check this dog out.)
After we drove away, watching in the mirrors to make sure that our new friend wasnt following my car (she didnt even hint that she might, but turned back to her home), it struck me that both dogs we met reminded me of the dogs I grew up with, just a mile or two down the road.
Our dogs, like all our neighbors dogs, were not trained, per se; didnt all have collars; ran loose most of the time; and died in sadly high numbers on the road. There were also far too many of them. Most people didnt spay and neuter, and we had lots of mixed-breed dogs. (When our Lab-mix, Donny, had 10 puppies, and someone asked my mom what kind they were, she answered semi-seriously, Well, there are four half-Sams, and six half-Buddys.)
But the dogs of my youth were also amazingly friendly and well-adjusted. I never heard of a kid getting bitten, and despite the number of intact males and females around, I dont even remember any dog fights. Separation anxiety? Obsessive/compulsive disorder? Sudden rage syndrome? Are you kidding?
Believe me, Im not condoning a return to the days when every dog reproduced and every other dog died under the wheels of a car. But sometimes it seems to me that despite all of our educated efforts to breed, raise, and train healthy, genial, biddable canine companions, todays dogs are more prone to behavior problems than the dogs of my youth. Have I romanticized the past? Or is there actually something good for dogs in a freedom-filled environment of (admittedly irresponsible) semi-neglect? I dont have the answer, but looking at the Mona Lisa smile on the face of that red dog in my picture, I cant help but think she does.
-Nancy Kerns
