Why Can't All My Dogs Be Like Roscoe?

Although there is a lot of happy playing and chewing of bones in my house, there are occasions when the atmosphere takes on a sinister tone. These are the times when Buster and Spot forget their common interests - taking care of the house by much barking at leaves and squirrels outside the windows - and declare an election for the office of Top Dog in Jan’s House. The competition is relentless, and their campaigns awe inspiring in their craftiness.

The latest recall election was inadvertently sparked by me, I’m sorry to say. I don’t know who spilled the beans about TD Roscoe featuring in my last blog post, but Buster and Spot aren’t happy, and they temporarily banded together to demand a recall.

Roscoe is always my choice for the office. Not just because he is the largest, but because he was in some pretty tough situations before he came to me and has risen above them. He’s a trained working dog, and his personal discipline has stood him in good stead. Despite suffering cruelty and neglect, Roscoe has managed to hold onto his essential nature and remain the kind, helpful guy I described. He could wipe the floor with his opponents, but keeps the debate civil and on track. Rather than snarling over bones, he has a thought-out platform of redirecting his opponent’s attention by sitting on his chew bone until Spot forgets about it. Problem solved unless Spot gets big ideas again. And he always does.

Spot is actually my choice for last place. He’s also a big dog, but is easily distracted by the current zeitgeist. His attention flits to the latest thing happening: the new shoes on the back porch, the pile of laundry by the washing machine, comments by dog neighbors, visitors (who really don’t appreciate Spot nosing about in personal business). The list goes on, but you get the point.

Seven-pound Buster claims the office of Top Dog based on age and seniority. Despite these credentials, the years have not granted him wisdom, and he is not the most loyal of the three.

The real test of a leader is how he or she reacts to a crisis. If all of us were trapped in an overturned car, Roscoe would find a way out to go for help. Spot would go with him, but being young and feckless his good intentions would not bear fruit. Spot just wouldn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. His ideas of going for help would have the opposite effect, and I don’t think years will help. Like Roscoe, he is true to his essential nature.

Buster would stay behind in the car with me, safe from the elements and lurking dangers, sleeping on my unconscious body until he noticed it getting cooler. At that point, he would start planning dinner. While I somewhat admire his instincts for self preservation, I don’t think his decisions would bode well for our household if he were to win the office of TDinJH.

So, I’ve given Spot and Buster equal time, and I’m sure they appreciate it. Not much given to self introspection, they won’t understand my constructive criticism. They will, no doubt, keep sniffing down the same path, and will challenge Roscoe again. But I’m not changing my mind.