Good Dog, Bad Dog

monochromatic friendship3

My dog always knows who to trust. Without fail, she understands which large canine is good for a sniff and a kiss, and which one to avoid. She’s never wrong. Does she smell aggression? Does she read ear position? I don’t know. But, her instincts are so spot-on; they can’t be attributed to blind luck. My little Schnauzer is complex. She’s able to read a Basset Hound or a Pit Bull or a Great Dane and know. This is a good dog. This is a bad dog.

I wish I had her skill set. Once after a spectacular breach of trust, a friend told me I was a terrible judge of character. I had to admit, she was right. Did I have a case of arrested development or a genuine emotional mutation? I couldn’t recognize false sincerity. Was gene therapy available? Could science be used to correct my inability to see people for who they really were?

It would be a great service to humanity if my dog’s judgment could be put to good use. Jazzy the Schnauzer might work for the state department in a strategic diplomatic post. She would signal the President with a sharp arf for a dependable ally or a lazy bow-wow for a noncommittal slacker. For an enemy, she would pull hard against her leash, dragging the leader of the free world to the far edge of the sidewalk, whimpering softly as danger passed by.

Yes. We all could use a little of Jazzy the Wonderdog’s good judgment.

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