Now, in this indifference and this total want of comprehension in which
everything that surrounds us lives; in this incommunicable world, where
everything has its object hermetically contained within itself, where
every destiny is self-circumscribed, where there exist among the
creatures no other relations than those of executioners and victims,
eaters and eaten, where nothing is able to leave its steel-bound
sphere, where death alone establishes cruel relations of cause and
effect between neighbouring lives, where not the smallest sympathy has
ever made a conscious leap from one species to another, one animal
alone, among all that breathes upon the earth, has succeeded in breaking
through the prophetic circle, in escaping from itself to come bounding
toward us, definitely to cross the enormous zone of darkness, ice and
silence that isolates each category of existence in nature's
unintelligible plan. This animal, our good familiar dog, simple and
unsurprising as may to-day appear to us what he has done, in thus
perceptibly drawing nearer to a world in which he was not born and for
which he was not destined, has nevertheless performed one of the most
unusual and improbable acts that we can find in the general history of
life. When was this recognition of man by beast, this extraordinary
passage from darkness to light, effected? Did we seek out the poodle,
the collie, or the mastiff from among the wolves and the jackals, or did
he come spontaneously to us? We cannot tell. So far as our human annals
stretch, he is at our side, as at present; but what are human annals in
comparison with the times of which we have no witness? The fact remains
that he is there in our houses, as ancient, as rightly placed, as
perfectly adapted to our habits as though he had appeared on this earth,
such as he now is, at the same time as ourselves. We have not to gain
his confidence or his friendship: he is born our friend; while his eyes
are still closed, already he believes in us: even before his birth, he
has given himself to man. But the word "friend" does not exactly depict
his affectionate worship. He loves us and reveres us as though we had
drawn him out of nothing. He is, before all, our creature full of
gratitude and more devoted than the apple of our eye. He is our
intimate and impassioned slave, whom nothing discourages, whom nothing
repels, whose ardent trust and love nothing can impair. He has solved,
in an admirable and touching manner, the terrifying problem which human
wisdom would have to solve if a divine race came to occupy our globe. He
has loyally, religiously, irrevocably recognized man's superiority and
has surrendered himself to him body and soul, without after-thought,
without any intention to go back, reserving of his independence, his
instinct and his character only the small part indispensable to the
continuation of the life prescribed by nature. With an unquestioning
certainty, an unconstraint and a simplicity that surprise us a little,
deeming us better and more powerful than all that exists, he betrays,
for our benefit, the whole of the animal kingdom to which he belongs
and, without scruple, denies his race, his kin, his mother and his
young.
But he loves us not only in his consciousness and his intelligence: the
very instinct of his race, the entire unconsciousness of his species, it
appears, think only of us, dream only of being useful to us. To serve us
better, to adapt himself better to our different needs, he has adopted
every shape and been able infinitely to vary the faculties, the
aptitudes which he places at our disposal. Is he to aid us in the
pursuit of game in the planes? His legs lengthen inordinately, his
muzzle tapers, his lungs widen, he becomes swifter than the deer. Does
our prey hide under wood? The docile genius of the species, forestalling
our desires, presents us with the basset, a sort of almost footless
serpent, which steals into the closest thickets. Do we ask that he
should drive our flocks? The same compliant genius grants him the
requisite size, intelligence, energy and vigilance. Do we intend him to
watch and defend our house? His head becomes round and monstrous, in
order that his jaws may be more powerful, more formidable and more
tenacious. Are we taking him to the south? His hair grows shorter and
lighter, so that he may faithfully accompany us under the rays of a
hotter sun. Are we going up to the north? His feet grow larger, the
better to tread the snow; his fur thickens, in order that the cold may
not compel him to abandon us. Is he intended only for us to play with,
to amuse the leisure of our eyes, to adorn or enliven the home? He
clothes himself in a sovereign grace and elegance, he makes himself
smaller than a doll to sleep on our knees by the fireside, or even
consents, should our fancy demand it, to appear a little ridiculous to
please us.
You shall not find, in nature's immense crucible, a single living being
that has shown a like suppleness, a similar abundance of forms, the
same prodigious faculty of accommodation to our wishes. This is because,
in the world which we know, among the different and primitive geniuses
that preside over the evolution of the several species, there exists not
one, excepting that of the dog, that ever gave a thought to the presence
of man.
It will, perhaps, be said that we have been able to transform almost as
profoundly some of our domestic animals: our hens, our pigeons, our
ducks, our cats, our horses, our rabbits, for instance. Yes, perhaps;
although such transformations are not comparable with those undergone by
the dog and although the kind of service which these animals render us
remains, so to speak, invariable. In any case, whether this impression
be purely imaginary or correspond with a reality, it does not appear
that we feel in these transformations the same unfailing and preventing
good will, the same sagacious and exclusive love. For the rest, it is
quite possible that the dog, or rather the inaccessible genius of his
race, troubles scarcely at all about us and that we have merely known
how to make use of various aptitudes offered by the abundant chances of
life. It matters not: as we know nothing of the substance of things, we
must needs cling to appearances; and it is sweet to establish that, at
least in appearance, there is on the planet where, like unacknowledged
kings, we live in solitary state, a being that loves us.
However the case may stand with these appearances, it is none the less
certain that, in the aggregate of intelligent creatures that have
rights, duties, a mission and a destiny, the dog is a really privileged
animal. He occupies in this world a pre-eminent position enviable among
all. He is the only living being that has found and recognizes an
indubitable, tangible, unexceptionable and definite god. He knows to
what to devote the best part of himself. He knows to whom above him to
give himself. He has not to seek for a perfect, superior and infinite
power in the darkness, amid successive lies, hypotheses and dreams. That
power is there, before him, and he moves in its light. He knows the
supreme duties which we all do not know. He has a morality which
surpasses all that he is able to discover in himself and which he can
practise without scruple and without fear. He possesses truth in its
fulness. He has a certain and infinite ideal.