DOGS, CHILDREN, AND KINDNESS

DOGS, CHILDREN, AND KINDNESS

Out of the depths of my hard drive, I happened upon this photo of a friend’s granddaughter with—amazingly—my dog Chelsea.

I say amazingly, because Chelsea never let us take her picture. She knew the sound of the camera motor, even the noise made by the camera-case zipper. I have other pictures, but they’re mostly of Chelsea running away.

Back to the little girl. Some years ago, she came with her grandparents and two older siblings to visit us in Florida. As you can see, she was beautiful and soulful. At the time, she was also willful, with a strong artistic bent that led her to make us of our walls and furniture. I loved her company, and loved waving goodbye.

So?

In terms of morals, little children don’t have them. At least I see no evidence they do. Like people who reach adulthood without a conscience (fill in the blank), children hate getting caught. But fearing punishment isn’t the same as being able to decide something is or isn’t “right.”

On the face of it, being kind would seem to require having a conscience. How can you be generous and tender towards others (or to a dog) without one? If the little girl in the picture doesn’t have any sense of right or wrong, doesn't that make the expression on her beautiful face, and her hand resting on my dog just one more aw-shucks-how-cute-is-that image?

I don’t think so. When the photo was taken, Chelsea was already an old eleven. She had always been blind in her left eye, and now had a cataract in the right. She was a little arthritic and tentative in her movements, but none of this had to be explained to Johanna. She saw, understood, and acted accordingly.

Throughout a visit characterized by madcap hours in our swimming pool, demands and refusals of many kinds, along with the acts of artistic expression mentioned earlier, this child gave no evidence of moral awareness, of conscience.

But she never failed to act in a slow, gentle manner toward my old dog. This was behavior absolutely at odds with the little girl’s commitment to pleasure based on chaos.

What can explain the suddenness with which she would change gears, slow everything down, sit beside Chelsea and do as you see? At the center of her small nuclear-reactor core, I’m convinced she knew what to do. I have seen this in other children meeting Chelsea for the first time. Not all. A few pull and pinch, but most don't. And it has always amazed me a little. They seem to know she’s old, seem to know they can’t roughhouse with her, and need to be gentle.

It’s something modestly profound, and worth thinking about. At least for me. I use Johanna’s gentleness with my old dog as a counterweight. When something in the news causes me to think dark thoughts, I summon up this image to re-balance the scales.
PLEASE VISIT ME HERE