'Daisy Had Other Plans'

Via The Watch

It’s such an odd thing we do with dogs. We’ve spent millenia domesticating this creature that, at the time we began the whole project, would have had no qualms about gobbling up our kids.

But we didn’t just tame them. As we’ve done with with all domesticated animals, we bred into them the traits most beneficial to us. We changed them. At first, we retained their more primal instincts, to protect our families, our livestock, and our reserves of food. We bred them strong and loud, rippling with ferocity and thew.

But then we decided we wanted dogs as companions, so we brought them into our homes. And we changed them again. I have a theory that in the modern dog, we’ve captured what we love most about those most treasured years of parenthood, that magical time when a kid is between about three and about six, when they’re just independent enough to seem like little humans, but still look up at you with undiluted love and wonder, still think you’re hilarious, still consider you the coolest thing around.

The paradoxical part of this whole endeavor is that as we’ve created these little love machines, we then bring them into our lives knowing full-well that they’ll precede us in death — that one day they’ll leave us devastated. That isn’t part of the bargain with kids.

If you haven’t guessed by now, this is one of those Tribute to My Dead Dog posts. I know, I know. It’s tired. It’s cliche. But hey, what’s the point of having your own newsletter if you can’t wax self-indulgently now and then? So Daisy, this is for you.

Read the full essay at Radley Balko's Substack.