Which is all very well, but it seems to me that humans keep reaching for these sources of wisdom — and ignoring them — while dogs have been busy living it.
Take, for instance, that classic medieval chestnut: “Let sleeping dogs lie.” Geoffrey Chaucer put that one on paper back in the 14th century, and he got it exactly right. There is absolutely nothing good about waking a sleeping hound. If I am twitching my paws and letting out little muffled whimpers in my sleep, I am engaged in important work, probably chasing a black wallaby through wattle and red gum thickets across the river flat. To interrupt that for something as mundane as “I am trying to listen to music, General” is frankly selfish.
Then there is “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” A fine rule, and one I observe with impressive restraint. In return, I expect the hand to keep producing food, ear scratches, and access to the couch. This is not greed. This is a reasonable interpretation of our “treat treaty”, our social contract. Humans love contracts right up until they have to obey one, of course, so the couch remains disputed territory.
I should also mention the English saying: “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch” – better understood as “Don't count the morsels before they’re in flight.” You do not count half a sausage while it’s still in the hand of a fidgeting child. You wait. You watch. You remain ready in an alert, disciplined way. Once it is airborne, you move.
Then there is the Chinese wisdom: “Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.” This sounds noble, but fails in practice. The Boss spends an inordinate amount of time trying to teach himself to catch a cod with a poorly tied feather minnow. The “lifetime” involves a lot of standing in cold water, flailing about while I wait on the bank. Just give us the fish: the “teaching” is an illusion of hope over experience.
“Clothes maketh the man” is especially funny from a dog’s point of view because humans put on jackets and suddenly think they are authoritative. They add boots, and they become expedition leaders. Put a cap on, and they may believe they are in charge of a yacht, or a barbecue, or the United States. A dog knows the truth: the important things about a person are their scent, their energy, and whether they’ve recently handled bacon.
“Blood is thicker than water” sounds solemn and wise until you realise it is usually invoked to excuse relatives who behave badly at weddings, funerals and Christmas lunches. Rather than blood relatives, dogs warm to whoever fills the bowl, opens the door and tolerates your head on their knee.
Now, I can’t forget, “He who fights and runs away may live to fight another day.” This is pure dog wisdom: there is bravery, and then there is the big buck ’roo that ripped out my under-arm and nearly drowned me a few years ago. I was in a sorry state after limping home with gaping holes in me. There’s a time to cut and run, and now I know better when.
Some of these proverbs make more sense than others. Woof!
