Puppies [antikvár]

INTRODUCTIONMany theories have been, and still are being advanced on the subject of the origins of the dog. Archaeological evidence shows that from the time that man first lived in caves and hunted for his food, the dog has formed an important and no doubt sometimes demanding part of his family life, but beyond this basic fact we are very largely dependent on speculation. Certainly the domestic dog descended from some very early form of wild dog or wolf, but which form and from what prehistoric animal remains unclear. What is clear however is that the dog was one of the first animals to become fully domesticated and that for many thousands of years, in return for a few relatively small favours, it has given to man the faithful affection, service and devotion that has earned it the title of "man's best friend".That this friendship is indeed a long-standing and almost universal one is shown by the very earliest cultures. So attached were the ancient Egyptians to their early breeds of domesticated dog, that the death of one of these creatures was lamented with great pomp and ceremony. The body was carefully embalmed, placed in a specially constructed tomb and finally laid to rest in graveyards specifically set aside for the purpose. The Romans too, recognised the value of these devoted companions. Dogs were brought from all over the world to perform a variety of tasks at the time of the Empire; and we have only to look to mythology to witness the deference awarded by the ancient Greeks to the vigilance and dedication of the dog. It is to the giant mastiff, Cerberes, that the onerous and all important task of guarding the gates of Hades is entrusted.From early myths to the modern era of that intrepid film star 'Lassie', the dog features prominently in many tales of courage and selfless devotion in the service of man, of steadfastness and perseverance, of attentiveness and concern for its master. Dogs have been bred for many special tasks: for hunting, guarding, herding, draughting, guiding but most popularly for companionship and as a household pet. The tragic lament "The more I see of my fellow men, the more I like my dog" is heard all too frequentiy today. The dog supplies unquestioning love and devotion where it is much needed. It brings comfort to those who are distressed, companionship to the lonely and reliability in a world of fluctuating fortunes. For these and a multitude of other reasons, in defiance of'rational' considerations such as those of finance or the responsibility involved, modern man like his predecessors chooses to take into his home, what in practical terms may well amount to another liability, another mouth to feed: a dog or possibly even more frequently, a puppy!A puppy of almost any imaginable breed is very appealing. The new-born pup, blind, deaf and consequently largely isolated from the external world might be considered generally lacking in charm and even uninteresting. Nevertheless, by the time, after about fourteen days, that the eyes first open, this tiny creature has already assumed the look of plaintive appeal that so many of us find irresistible. When, during the third week its ungainly wriggling and crawling develops into a highly comical, unsteady walk and with its sharpened senses and newly acquired teeth it begins to make identifiable, albeit sometimes painful responses to human approaches, the spell is already cast. So effective is the enchantment that in cuddling a warm bundle of tumbling fur, the fact that a young puppy may require as much care and attention as its human counterpart may be forgotten. It is only when the bright, happy little thing, removed from its brothers and sisters and plunged into a strange, cold world, becomes a miserable, whining animal that yelps continuously through the night, soils the best carpet and gnaws its way systematically through table legs, slippers and the Sunday joint, that the magic wears thin. In the majority of instances however, it never entirely disappears, for these are only temporary set-backs. A puppy, if handled with understanding and in a responsible way, can with relative ease be persuaded that the middle of the night is not the time for choir practice, that it is just as much fun to dig holes in the garden as it is to make unsuccessful attempts at burying things under the carpet, and even, that the well-stripped bone that remains on Monday morning is far more desirable than Sunday's carefully cooked beef.