Of Dogs and Men

佚名/Anonymous

据我所知，狗狗们召开过一次大会。哦，或许是在两万年前。那是一次大型集会——一次各地代表都参加的国际性会议。就是在那次会议上，他们提出了一项决议：人类是追求上进的物种，狗应与他们同甘苦共患难。很显然，这一决议并未获得全票通过。狼和野狗立即表示反对并愤然离去。

猫的反应更为消极。他们得知这一消息后，便召开了紧急内部会议，当然地点是巴黎——他们痛斥狗屈服于人类强权的懦弱行为（他们发表的声明——《猫的状况》在书店仍可以看到）。必须承认，猫干得不错。他们用诱骗的手段，让人类喂养他们，因此，不至挨饿，又保持目中无人的高贵派头，真是个绝招儿。忠厚老实的狗签署并发表了那项声明，人狗之间的美好友谊就这样开始了。

必须得承认，我最初并没有对狗产生好感。我出生在一个不喜欢宠物的家庭里。狗在我们家中并不重要。父亲对宠物毫无兴趣，他并不憎恶宠物，只是认为他们是个累赘。

我的父母对我们养宠物确实迁就了许多。我养过一只乌龟，弟弟养过一只长尾鹦鹉。但两者都有不幸的结局。我的龟掉到了一个散热器的后面，等发现时已经晚了。而那只鹦鹉，上帝保佑他，一次飞出窗外，自此不见踪影。在管理出现如此糟糕的状况后，我们就没敢提想养狗的事。

倒是我的妻子罗宾让我开始对狗的神奇有所了解。她是澳大利亚人。而澳大利亚这个国家正如比尔·布莱森在《太阳烧焦的乡村》中热情歌颂的那样，在这种地方，你所珍重的是动物王国里的儒雅，而那些动物都不及狗儒雅。

罗宾开始领着我们慢慢地了解狗。儿子6岁时，她弄回一只叫雨果的博德牧羊犬。她知道我会喜欢的，因为这种狗是世界上最聪明的狗。首先，我们在后院打垒球时，雨果能给我们打外场；其次，他会无懈可击地把守前门；再次，他是灵通的气象员，每次雷暴来临前他都会长吠一声。

当我们的儿子丹尼尔10岁时，他想要只属于自己的狗。我不赞成，用防核扩散研讨会上的论点加以驳斥，但毫无作用。只要一声哀求“求您了，爸爸”，我便彻底投降了。罗宾去了一趟弗吉尼亚的温切斯特，发现了一窝拉布拉多小黑狗，就这样，她将切斯特带回了家。

切斯特的行为就是精神病学家所说的那种绝对的爱的表现。更确切地说是无所顾忌的爱。只要他看到你一走进门，便会高兴地把你撞倒，因此，送货人学会了把东西放到我们家门口。

在某些方面——比如获得某个博士学位什么的——我对切斯特没有太高的要求。当我要到家的时候，我猜到了雨果会在那里读报纸，而不是切斯特，切斯特会用自己的方式使劲儿地从狭窄的拉门中探出头来，半截身子卡在里边，然后用真诚而茫然的眼神盯着我看。我认为他或许从不知道他的后半截身子实际是和前半截相连的。

切斯特将爱自然而然地施予他人，就如他的呼吸一样，不假思索。他让我想起了那个很久以前就订立的人狗之间的契约。喜欢猫的人和讨厌宠物的人对这种恋狗行为不屑一顾，可我情不自禁。切斯特总是在你的脚下或手边，期待着你的拍打和爱抚，期待着你与他嬉闹和交谈。他那个漂亮结实的脑袋，奇妙肥硕的身段，那男中音式的狗吠，传遍了房间和心间的每个角落。

就在上个月，刚满8岁的他就猝然而去了。我们曾预料的那漫长的、流着口水的、懒散的衰老过程不会有了。在得知这一噩耗时，一位常遭切斯特发自内心的爱弹袭击的年轻朋友悲痛地说：“他是我见过的最可爱的动物，也是我见过的唯一一只亲吻猫的狗。”

有些人会持反对意见，他们认为在这个充斥着人类痛苦的世界上，因一只狗而悲伤，是近乎怪癖和可憎的行为。我却不以为然。毕竟，这是人性的表现，深深地为自然界所呈现给我们的美景而感动是完全正常的事。当它呈现给我们一个最可爱的景象——一个动物时，难道我们不该为之感动吗？

The way I see it dogs had this big meeting. Oh maybe 20，000 years ago. A huge meeting—an international convention with delegates from everywhere. And that's when they decided that humans were the up and coming species and dogs were going to throw their lot in with them. The decision was obviously not unanimous. The wolves and dingoes walked out in protest.

Cats had an even more negative reaction. When they heard the news they called their own meeting—in Paris of course—to denounce canine subservience to the human hyper-power. Their manifesto—La Condition Féline—can still be found in provincial bookstores. Cats， it must be said， have not done badly. Using guile and seduction they managed to get humans to feed them thus preserving their superciliousness without going hungry. A neat trick. Dogs being guileless signed and delivered. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

I must admit that I've been slow to warm to dogs. I grew up in a non-pet friendly home. Dogs do not figure prominently in our households. My father was not very high on pets. He wasn't hostile. He just saw them as superfluous an encumbrance.

My parents did allow a hint of zoological indulgence. I had a pet turtle. My brother had a parakeet. Both came to unfortunate ends. My turtle fell behind a radiator and was not discovered until too late. And the parakeet God bless him flew out a window once never to be seen again. After such displays of stewardship we dared not ask for a dog.

My introduction to the wonder of dogs came from my wife Robyn. She's Australian. And Australia as lovingly recounted in Bill Bryson's In a Sunburned Country. In a place， you cherish niceness in the animal kingdom. And they don't come nicer than dogs.

Robyn started us off slowly. She got us a Border collie Hugo when our son was about 6. She knew that would appeal to me because the Border collie is the smartest species on the planet. Hugo could play outfield in our backyard baseball games： do flawless front door sentry duty， and play psychic weathermen announcing with a wail every coming thunderstorm.

When our son Daniel turned 10 he wanted a dog of his own. I was against it using arguments borrowed from seminars on nuclear nonproliferation. It was hopeless. One giant "Please Dad" and I caved completely. Robyn went out to Winchester Virginia found a litter of black Labs and brought home Chester.

Chester is what psychiatrists mean when they talk about unconditional love. Unbridled is more like it. Come into our house and he was so happy to see you he would knock you over. Deliverymen learned to leave things at the front door.

In some respects—Ph.D. potential for example—I don't make any great claims for Chester. When I would arrive home I fully expected to find Hugo reading the newspaper. Not Chester. Chester would try to make his way through a narrow sliding door find himself stuck halfway and then look at me with total and quite genuine puzzlement. I don't think he ever got to understand that the rear part of him was actually attached to the front.

But it was Chester who dispensed affection as unreflectively as he breathed who got me thinking about this long ago pact between humans and dogs. Cat lovers and the pet averse will just roll their eyes at such dog ophilia. I can't help it. Chester was always at your foot or your hand waiting to be petted and stroked played with and talked to. His beautiful blocky head his wonderful overgrown puppy's body his baritone bark filled every corner of house and heart.

Then last month at the tender age of 8 he died quite suddenly. The long slobbering slothful decline we had been looking forward to was not to be. When told the news a young friend who was a regular victim of Chester's lunging love bombs said mournfully， "He was the sweetest creature I ever saw. He's the only dog I ever saw kiss a cat".

Some will protest that in a world with so much human suffering it is something between eccentric and obscene to mourn a dog. I think not. After all it is perfectly normal indeed deeply human to be moved when nature presents us with a vision of great beauty. Should we not be moved when it produces a vision—a creature—of the purest sweetness？