Down and dirty part 3

For sure, she’s no lady - my dog. She’s a wuss with strangers and my cat, she’s loveable, devoted and attentive to my every move. I can remove her food dish from under her face or lift a bone from between her teeth with impunity, but when it comes down to biology, she’s no lady. A recently slaughtered deer could not be hidden from her sensitive nose. A recently charred turkey carcass from a fire could not deter the wolf hiding behind her silken cloaking. Rancid leftovers (luckily no offal) whether pelt or bone, to her were still ripe and reeking fair game.

Her biology reveals her to be a follower of Ayn Rand’s “virtue of selfishness.” Of course, my dog has no moral compass for successful living; she practices no “folly of altruism,” another tenet of Ayn Rand, the philosopher of freedom and self-interest. Behind my back and between meals, my dog scavenged discards, no matter how far and wide I thought I had thrown them.

What are my rewards for her teachable moments? I chalk up my dog’s behavior to biology something Ayn Rand would have advocated on a human level. I reaped the stinky rewards of her digestive system forced to remember the vast difference between a thinking woman and an irrational beast. Whereas I know my dog’s no lady, my dog knows I’m the lady who loves her.