Togo Goes with a Heritage Hunch
My, the last few weeks have been invigorating as I’ve been investigating my past and getting to know more about my ancestors.
If you haven’t been following along, a simple cheek swab unlocked a telling story of the breeds I’m made of. To find out more or to refresh your memory, follow the links below:
Since I’ve completed my ancestral reveal, I’ve received a lot of comments from both people and other dogs. Most have been very nice, almost congratulatory, notes. I’m not exactly sure about the congratulations directed to me since it should be obvious that my forebears1 did all the work.
A few people (meaning humans) have asked me if it bothers me that I’m not a pure breed. For a while I thought they were kidding because it’s obvious the earliest mommas and poppas of every breed weren’t “pure breeds.” They were combinations of two or more breeds. And we all came from our common ancestor, the wolf, at some point.
But they’re not kidding. Daddy says that some people become fixated on “pure breeds,” no matter if it’s a dog or a fellow human. Apparently many of those people who feel that way have ended up in politics and spend most of their energy trying to pass laws that elevate one “people-breed” above others. Daddy says it is also curious why these same people are very concerned about giving equal rights to females.
[This is a disclaimer. Daddy told me that it would be best not to make that last paragraph part of my story. In fact, he said some people might not want to read my stories any more. So I’m asking that you, the reader, strike all of that from your memory. But, really, can you?]
Dogs, on the other hand, could care less whether another dog is pure-blooded. If you don’t believe me just ask one. It is true that some dogs act a little more uppity than others. (Personally, I believe that has more to do with indigestion. Dr. L, my veterinarian, would be glad to make nutritional recommendations. DM me and I’ll send you his contact information.)2 But dogs have no problem with their heritage or the heritage of their buddies. We love pure breeds and mixed breeds. We are inclusive. If you don’t believe me, take a trip to your local dog park.
I asked some sociologists why there is a difference between canines and humans on this view of dogs and people. Not a single one replied to my request. Daddy says it’s because educated people don’t believe that dogs really talk. Apparently, it’s science. But a friend of Daddy’s once told him humans often become exclusive out of fear. So I’ll go with that idea.
Interesting concept. Because I’m not afraid of anything. Except thunderstorms. And vacuum cleaners. And a few cats. But other than that, I’m not afraid of anything.
This is where I am getting on my soapbox. I don’t really have a soapbox, but I do have this great box my brother, Jeremy, built to help me get in my swing. So pretend you see me there. Technically, in this picture, Daddy is on my soapbox.
It’s pretty well-established that everything is better when you have diversity. Except maybe some science stuff. (That’s just based on watching reruns of “The Big-Bang Theory” and probably not probative.)
Having people and dogs from different backgrounds and circumstances makes problem-solving easier and life more fair. Different languages, customs, and looks makes life far more interesting. We are better when we all get together. We shouldn’t be afraid of what makes us stronger.
I would have been equally happy to be 100% Siberian Husky, Alaskan Malamute, Labrador Retriever, Gray Wolf, or German Shepherd Dog. But I’m ecstatic to be a little bit of all five. I’m proud of who I am. And you should be proud of who you are. That would be good science.
So, some of you people out there, learn a lesson from us dogs. Hang out with those who aren’t just like you. Share a bowl of water or play tug-of-war. Or just run and play and bark at the top of your lungs. Embrace who you are. Love others for who they are. For your own good, stop being afraid.
And for those of you who already understand, let’s set a play date.
Interesting linguistics note. Did you know that “forebears” means “ancestor?” Did you also know that some people insisted on saying “forebearers” instead? And did you know that the dictionary people finally got so tired of correcting people that they finally gave in and said “Whatever!” So, now you can say “forebears” or “forebearers” — either one is correct. (Oh, my! Did you see what just happened here?! I have inadvertently discovered the etymology of “Whatever!”)
And cats, don’t even get me started on cats. It could be all the fish they eat . . . or hairballs. Whatever it is, it perpetuates uppitiness. And I say that with all due respect. I have many cat friends, but they do have a bit of an attitude. Actually, I find that refreshingly uppity.
My cats disagree with point #2. They said "don't get us started about dogs!" They said they may have natural fish breath but at least they don't eat garbage. Callie said she is a bit uppity.