Who owns whom?

By Michael McManus

In recent times, I have reported on two incidents I witnessed which had to with animal cruelty. The images will remain forever. The first was in deep winter in a southern city. Someone had abandoned a small dog, I believe Pomeranian, at a traffic intersection. The dog was looking at every car to see its owner, but no one stopped. The other incident was more recent. A cat was thrown from a speeding car in a tunnel under Seoul Forrest. The beautiful cat had no chance.

Of all the subjects I have written about, and there are many about the world, Korea, people, and education, the one which caused the most emails back to me was animal cruelty. There are a lot of pet and animal defenders out there. So this article is for you. It is also for everyone who has ever wondered just why we have been blessed with a four letter creature of nature we call “dogs”.

Let’s first consider the nature of this creature. Most of them have a relatively short life compared to humans. I lost count of the number of dogs in my own life and family at 12 or more. All of them died between 10 and 16 years as we count years. They say that one of our years equals about 7 dog years, thus, these animals seem to live a long life, yet for us, it is sometimes so very short.

Dogs make us laugh out loud. Some, nearly all the time! I have noticed that if a dog has a happy puppyhood, it is likely to play like a puppy all its life. I currently own a Yorkshire terrier at about one year age. It plays all the time unless it is sleeping or eating. I laugh so hard sometimes; I rather think it knows I am enjoying its frollicking. It often just brings me a toy and puts it at my feet as if to say, “Let’s play”. Even when I am sleeping, the dog seems to know that and lies down next to me and sleeps also. Amazing intuition and intelligence.

Dogs come in all shapes and sizes, and all kinds of mixtures. Yet, there are only a limited number of specific types, called breeds, worldwide which are recognized officially and have very specific criteria and birth heritage. Kennel clubs exist all over the world and conduct dog shows so owners can compete their dogs on conformation to the ideal breed standard. It is a human judgment call which decides the winner! Such clubs also host training competitions at various levels of skill, with the working dog category at the top of the pyramid. I have had the fortune to take one dog I owned, an Old English sheepdog, through this level. She loved the training and seemed to be a “natural”.

What is a dog, really? Why are they here? Do we really “own” them? If so, it seems strange, because in most modern societies, personal ownership of another being is considered slavery. With dogs, we have adopted the notion of somewhat dispensable members of the animal kingdom. It would be hard to argue against dog “ownership”, because for us it is way of protecting them. I truly believe most dogs I have had recognized my physical superiority, but deeply believe that they own me! From the sensory standpoint, vision, smell, hearing, they are superior without question.

Many of us living in families accept them as members of the family. Some young couples decide not to have children, but rather have dogs instead, surrogate children of a type. I have known families who talk to their dogs as if they are people; even seat them at the dinner table.

In today’s writing, I will not attempt to answer the question of animal cruelty, and just why some people have a stone cold heart to pets like dogs. That is for another time and probably involves a deep plunge into psychopathology and philosophy. I will, however, offer a story which, I hope, might warm the hearts of even the cruelest of human beings. This is a story about one now famous dog, and it is a true story.

One of the fallen victims of last month’s Paris attacks was a working dog, a Belgian Sheppard, named “Diesel”. She was seven years old when she died in the police raid on Saint Denis in Paris. She was an official member of the Paris police, simply a well-trained police dog. She had an owner, a fellow policeman. I would call him a partner.

Diesel had all those qualities we see in dogs. She had deep loyalty to her partner and his mission. She understood the mission through his command words. She rushed into chaos and uncertain mayhem just and only because her partner gave her that command. No questions, no hesitation, no looking back.

I will never know if I will see or be able to talk to my own lost dogs again. Certainly not in this lifetime. My deep intuition is that they are not lost forever, and never lost from us.

I saw a website from France several weeks ago. It was dedicated to Diesel. There were almost 9 million hits. Russia sent France a puppy police dog as a symbol of solidarity. Many cried. I sent a poem to many of my students and friends in France. It was a message from Diesel and I share it now with you.

A bien tot…from Diesel

My dear friend, do not grieve too long for me.

I did my job for you, my master.

It is what you trained me for.

God made me to be your best friend,

And loyal to the death.

So, my life was a gift to you,

And you were a gift to me.

When you would have another like me,

Just put your warm hand on its head.

I will know.

Hold its hand and squeeze it, and tell it you understand.

I will understand.

Forever and all the days,

Do not ever worry

I will be engarde at your side.

Michael McManus is a founder and president emeritus of the California International Business University. Currently he serves several universities as advisor and guest professor in the Seoul area. Comment is very welcome at mcmismism@aol.com.