Domesticated Bliss

Life, as we all know, is a dangerous journey. It is fraught with unexpected events and perils, and is – at all times – uncertain. Some of us manage this uncertainty with dignity and aplomb, deriving enjoyment from each moment, caring little about the fact that each moment could be the last.

Rex the dog, unfortunately, is not one of those carefree souls. On the contrary, Rex has developed a hyper-fear – no doubt in case standard fearing-for-one’s life should prove to be inadequate. There is little logic (none, really) in Rex’s terrors. Why, for example, is laundry so horrifying? To make things even more convoluted, clothing itself is of no concern. Should someone be walking about in a pair of pants, they are paid no heed. Take those pants off and twirl them around a few times, and Rex begins to shake and tremble in a manner reminiscent of an off-centered washing machine. This is puzzling.

Also puzzling? The fear of thunder, and of clapping. These would not be quite so disturbing were they not such a contrast to real dangers – dangers which Rex seems to be oblivious to. Cars do not pose a threat in the world of Rex’s head, even if they are hurtling down the street toward him at high speed. Feet – especially moving feet of large, mobile humans – do not need to be watched out for. Why would they? Hot surfaces, large, aggressive dogs, knives… None of these things bother Rex in the least. He has a habit of running in front of people if they are carrying large, view-impairing objects, and one of his favorite places to position himself is in front of feet as shoes are being put on or taken off – even though this has caused him to be inadvertently kicked in the head more than once.

These behaviors – and similar behaviors that I’ve observed in other pets – are troubling. Not because they are so senseless, but because I believe that we – as humans – are responsible for them. When we domesticated animals, we specifically chose animals with qualities that would be considered “weaknesses” in the wild animal kingdom. This is logical – to a degree. The strongest animals – the most intelligent – want nothing to do with humans. We had to select the not-so-smart, or the weak, to create a “need” for our company or our assistance. We created animals that would no longer be capable of surviving on their own. It’s not that they’re no longer intelligent, but they’re not intelligent in the same way. Their strengths lie in their ability to humor us, to entertain us. Skills that would not serve them well in the cruel world of nature…

On the plus side, these creatures are quite likeable. (As they should be. We – being the “gods” that created them - would naturally breed them for traits that we consider “likeable.”) It is as if they have been custom-made to be loveable. And, actually, they have…