This is for Bill, who asked if I think dogs get impatient with humans because humans are “blind in the nose.”  This story was handed down through “ancestral memory.”  What do you think, Bill?

It was the worst drought any human or dog could remember. There was no green grass, no delicious grasshoppers or mice to eat, no rabbits, no quail, and no pheasants anywhere. The ancestral canids were desperate for food as they roamed at night far beyond their usual range looking for anything edible. A wonderful smell drifted on the air and pulled the pack into the wind to find the source. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the wildfire leaping into the air, crackling, and snapping savagely at them. There was a strange smell besides the delicate smell of cooked prairie dog. It was a faint mixture of familiar odors of other animals like badger, raccoon, wolf, and deer. There was a much stronger smell that was like wet grass, wild cat, and skunk all in one but different and fearsome. It was the smell of human!

The pack always avoided humans because humans were predators on the wild canids. But this time the white muzzled pack leader was overcome by the smell of roasted prairie dog. As the pack lay on their bellies and drooled, the pack leader laid back his ears and began to crawl toward the humans and their fire. The pack leader sensed food at hand and snapped up a prairie dog bone swallowing it whole. How delicious! More bones flew magically through the air and landed around him.

His belly full, the pack leader crawled back to the pack and led them away from the human encampment at the edge of the prairie dog town. Once they were at a safe distance, the pack nuzzled and licked the leader’s grease coated face. They whined with hunger and even growled at each other for the privilege of licking their leader’s face.

The next night the pack returned to where their leader had found food. This time the pack leader’s mate followed him to the prairie dog bone feast and gorged until she was near bursting with food. Each night thereafter more canids joined in the feast until the whole pack was secretly feasting on the human’s discarded prairie dog bones. When the humans had snared and trapped all the unwary prairie dogs, they moved on to another place where they trapped turtles, fish, and collected freshwater clams. Of course they threw out the bones, shells, and best of all the spoiled excess that humans couldn’t eat. The pack feasted during what would usually have been a deadly time for them.

The pack continued to hunt but now they were prosperous, producing large litters with more babies surviving than usual. No one knows how long the first wild canids checked human garbage heaps before they revealed themselves to “The People.” “The People” was what humans called them selves during the time of this story.

It took many years but eventually humans and dogs teamed up. Each species caused the other to prosper. Humans gained a faithful friend who could smell danger at a great distance and would raise an immediate alarm day or night. Humans also had a hunting partner who could track game, wounded or healthy, faster than any human.

Dogs had a partner who could find and catch game in the worst of times. “The People” could catch food from under the ground or under the water with equal ease and then would throw the excess away. “The People” weren’t even afraid to stand up to the wolves, cougars, and bears who all relished canid puppies.

Times were very good then and dogs and humans were happy together. Alas, the world changed to what it is today. Most humans don’t hunt and gather like the “The People”. Dogs can no longer fend for themselves in the wild. Dogs have lost the knowledge that their ancestors were born with and it has been replaced with dependence on humans for leadership, exercise, health care and food.

Boomer