27 Oct The intelligent kindness of dogs

This summer, we said goodbye to our 16-year-old dog, Moe. Moe wasn’t a Catahoula (she was a GSP/Bluetick mix), but she was a wonderful, special dog. She is deeply missed in our household.

I’d like to share a story about Moe that changed how I think about dogs, and might also change how you think about them.

Moe (left) cuddling with Dyna (middle) and foster pup Lucy in 2007.

My husband and I were on a rock climbing trip in Joshua Tree National Park around Christmas about a decade ago. As you might already know, dogs are quite unwelcome in almost all National Parks. They must be on-leash at all times, cannot go into the backcountry at all, and, in some cases, are not allowed off pavement.

So we had our two dogs tethered in camp that night (Moe was about 6 and our GSP/ACD mix, Dyna, was about 2), and we let Moe loose for just a moment to eat her dinner. Dyna was still tied to the picnic table, and we were enjoying some carrots for hors d’oeuvres. Our dogs LOVE carrots. We tossed one to Moe, which she promptly snarfed. Then we tossed one to Dyna, which landed just out of her grasp. She strained and pulled at her leash to get it, but it remained out of paw reach. We laughed at her efforts. Moe looked at us, looked at the carrot, then walked over toward it. We laughed even harder at her unabashed animal opportunism, and again at hapless Dyna’s expense. (Don’t be upset, now… Dyna would get another carrot.)

But Moe didn’t eat the carrot. Instead, she pushed it with her nose through the dirt until Dyna could eat it. I kid you not. Then she looked at us like, “Why you gotta be so mean?”