Why There Are Dogs
hen the nights are cold and dogs lie close to the fire, they sometimes turn their eyes away from the dark and gaze into the flames. Their blood sings a song of a forgotten time, and they whisper, among themselves, the tale of why there are dogs.
Long ago the people lived without houses. They roamed the grass-land and the forests of our planet, taking shelter where they could. The grew no crops and kept no animals. The people found their food on the land, hunting and gathering it where they could. They knew the place where the red, sweet berries grew ripe just after the sun stood at the top of the sky. They knew the flat rocks near the tall oaks where many acorns fell. They knew the warm caves close to the river where the winter winds were stilled by the big, black rocks. They were a wise people and had knowledge of things as well as places. They knew of fire, and how it is made. They knew of clay, and how to form it into pots. They understood the bending of twigs and reeds into baskets.
These wise people lived a good life. They feared only one creature, he who walks like a man, but is not a man, the bear. They tried to avoid him, but their food was also his food. The warm caves they sought in the winter were the same shelter that the bear needed for survival. Bear and man have much in common. Man is strong and the most cunning animal in the forest. The bear has a strength beyond that of ten men and can run like the deer for a short distance. The bear's claws are more powerful than the hunter's bow, his spear, and his knife. But what make the bear most dangerous is that he is unpredictable. In those times when men hunted the bear they tried to weaken it with arrows and then close in with spears. Many hunters died to kill one bear, but without their bravery all the people might have died. The people killed only those bears that could not be frightened away, but of course, those bears were the strongest and most aggressive.
There came a time when the winters grew colder. Many more bears came into the valleys and hills of the land. They were bigger bears than any had seen before and could not be easily frightened. The bears ate the berries, took the fish from the streams, and left the people hungry. Many hunters died; a women was killed by the edge of the river. The people were saddened by the loss and afraid they were too few to fight against the bears and survive. They had always been a good people. They said the proper prayers, danced and sang the praise of the Great Spirit. Special prayers were said and a special picture of the bear was drawn on the cave wall. They danced and asked the Great Spirit to give them the bear's power so they might live out their lives in peace, again free from fear. Who can say if the Great Spirit was moved by the prayers of the people or by his own plan? As always he worked his will in a way that no one would have guessed. One night, when the moon was full, he went to a hill top where his children, the wolves, had gathered.
"There are many bears," The Great Spirit said to the wolves.
"Yes, many," Father Wolf agreed, "But we wolves are many, and our hearts are strong."
"The bears have grown too many; they upset the balance of the world with their power all may be lost," the Great Spirit said.
"Is it your wish that the world will perish?" Father Wolf asked.
"No, that is not my wish. It shall not be if I have your help," the Great Spirit declared.
"We have great honor," Father Wolf offered proudly, and the pack howled with pleasure.
"This is not something to be undertaken lightly. I ask a great sacrifice of you," said the Great Spirit.
"We are your pack," Father Wolf wagged his huge gray tail. "We are your obedient children. Tell us what you will."
"I cannot tell you to do this. I can only ask. The decision must be your own," the Great Spirit declared. "Do you know of those that live in the caves by the black rocks? The ones who are called people?"
"They are the ones who smell so bad," one wolf said. "They have no tails," offered Mother Wolf. "They walk only on their back legs," said Uncle Wolf.
"Yet, they are brave and good hunters," the Great Spirit said.
"Yes, they are fine hunters," Father Wolf agreed, "but they depend on their eyes. They have little noses. So small they cannot know how bad their own odor is."
The wolves howled in laughter.
"All that you have said is true," the Great Spirit replied, "but like my children the wolves the people have a pack, and they love their small ones as do my wolves."
Father Wolf cock his head to one side and twitched his great gray muzzle. "What is it you want of us?" he asked.
The Great Spirit spoke, "I wish you to give your cubs, your children, to the people of the black rocks. These children will be raised by the people as their own.".
The wolves howled with horror for wolves love their cubs above all else. "A wolf would be driven crazy by their smell," said Uncle Wolf. "No wolf can walk on two legs," whined Mother Wolf.
"They will grow used to the smell of the people, and they shall always walk on four legs. Together with the people they will become the greatest hunters under the bowl of the sky. Your cubs will walk forever in the footsteps of man, and they shall have a new name. They shall be called dogs," The Great Spirit declared.
"Then we shall never see our children again," cried mother Wolf in despair.
"That is so," the Great Spirit said. "I know that I ask much of my wolves. But this way is the only way my children the wolves and my children the people can overcome the bears."
The wolves gathered together in a tight circle and discussed among themselves what the Great Spirit had asked of them. After a long while Father Wolf turned toward the Great Spirit. "It will be as you have asked, Father of us all. We love our children, but we cannot question your wisdom."
And so the Great Spirit took the children of the wolves and gave them to the people of the black rocks. Together the children of the wolves and the people of the black rocks became as the fingers of one hand. Together none could match their eyes, their ears, their noses, or their cunning. The balance of the world was restored and the bears were driven back into the high mountains where they have lived since that long ago time.
This is the story dogs tell as they lay by the fire and gaze into the flames. Who can tell if it is true? But when the moon is full, and the night still and clear, the wolves gather on the hill tops and cry for their lost children. When their lost children hear them they answer with a cry of their own.
