Gentle Giants

Last weekend, I went up to climb near the St. Bernard pass, where that breed of dogs came from. I could see four dogs in a kennel back behind our lodgings and got curious about the breed, so here’s what I learned:

They were smaller in the past. It’s only been the last two hundred years or so that they’ve been bred to be so large. They don’t live long, around ten years, and have tons of genetic problems common with other pure breed dogs and large dogs, hip dysplasia, skin conditions and the like.

I was pleased to see them up at the pass, but it was a bit sad that they are not with families. One apparently had an ear or skin infection around the ears. A woman came out, took a photo and sent it (I’m guessing to a vet), then proceeded to rub what looked like an ointment around the ears. She was caring, but she also didn’t respond when the dog licked her face.

The dogs were out all night and I’m pretty sure that they were more comfortable at night outside at the pass than they would have been down in the valley (it’s been hot). I just wish I’d seen evidence of them receiving love as well as care.

And I guess that’s true for many of us. We are so parsimonious with our love. Why is it too much for most of us to spread love around more readily? What would that hurt? I’ve heard a lot of people say, “Well, I’ve tried that, but I don’t get anything back in return.” But is that the point? Sure we want to be loved, but we also want the world to be a kinder, more loving place. We can just give it away; it’s not like we were given a limited supply. It’s not like cartilage that will wear down to the bones. If everyone just gave away love (a hug, a kind word, really listening to someone, spending a moment to say hello to a neighbor even if they’re crotchety) then the whole world would be a kinder, nicer place. When we make the effort with someone who is difficult (and objectively undeserving), we also get to pat ourselves on the back and tell ourselves that we’re above all that, that we’re good people, which makes us feel good about ourselves. So it the end, it’s all about us. Instant karmic feedback loop.

These dogs should have been greeted with love, a big pat, a “hello, how are you today?” and it made me sad that they weren’t. It’s not like it’s a serious problem, but it’s symptomatic of our world that feels we can’t care unless we’re getting something back. It’s not like we need to put tariffs on love.