I have long maintained that a boy cannot properly be prepared for manhood without having owned a real dog. By real dog, I of course mean one whose breeding, or lack thereof, makes it worthy of respect. I think it goes without saying that dogs with handles like Mall Tease, Shit Sue, and Pro- Iranian can contribute nothing to a future man’s growth and development. For that kind of work, a boy generally needs a dog more in line with Labradors, German Shepherds, Hounds or a good Mutt of no little heft. This does not necessarily leave out the smaller breeds, but they need to be breeds with grit. I prefer the Dachshund or Rat Terrier or almost any terrier for that matter so long as their coat is too short for bows.
One of the reasons a little boy needs a dog of considerable size at some point in his childhood is so that he can crawl inside Fido’s house and see what the view from the inside is like. This will be helpful once he falls in love and marries the woman of his dreams because if the boy turns out to be anything like most of the men I know, it won’t take him too long to dash her dreams and find himself in The Dog House. Luckily, having spent plenty of time in my dog’s house as a little boy climatizing myself to cramped quarters, fleas, and ticks, I was more than prepared for extended stays in The Dog House during the early part of my marriage.
Another advantage for young boys growing up with real dogs over those who don’t is a greater understanding of the definition of loyal, friendship. Rare is the occasion that a boyhood dog turns out to be traitorous. A boy’s dog will stick to him through even the most thunderous tirade of a father who has just realized the two of them have transformed the smooth, green surface of the backyard lawn into a moonscape in their quest to dig to China to feed all those starving kids. Neither is a boy’s dog daunted by the irate mother raining down threats of being Sick and Tired of filthy foot prints, and once clean sheets being used for capes and tents for the army. A good dog sticks closer than a brother---who is usually found squeezing under the fence and heading for the hills at the first hint of trouble.
Boy’s need real dogs to teach them courage. A big dog can teach this, but they generally need a full blown, immanently dangerous, death at the door step kind of crisis to really shine. On the other hand, I have found that the smaller breeds can teach this lesson with something as simple and handy as a coon in a hole. Nothing shouts courage more to a boy than watching his gritty little dog plunge head first into a dark, mysterious, coon filled hole in the ground. And nothing stirs the pride in a young boy’s heart more than watching that same little dog coming grunting and growling out of that hole with a mouth full of coon hind end. But doubly blessed is the boy that has a pair of dogs--- one big and one small for crises of all varieties.
Perhaps the decline of masculinity can be traced to the absence of real dogs in the lives of our boys. Every boy should have eaten after his dog on occasion and likewise had his dog eat after him when dinner proved too healthy. Every boy should have to scoop poo and fill water bowls and pull round, glossy ticks from his best friend. And in turn a boy can expect to wipe his tears away in a warm friendly coat and have his picked scabs licked clean to prevent infection.
It doesn’t take a village to raise a young man, just a good dog.
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