Our longtime staffer, Jacob, offers a hymn of praise to the virtues of a beloved dog
In a world where many look to Brittany Spears or Brad Pitt for some sort of ideal, others continue to ask, "Who, among us, is worthy to be praised?"
"Surely no man!" comes the laughing response.
Indeed, surely no man. And yet I boast that I have encountered an unswerving soul in the earth - a soul of more grace and longsuffering than you or I, my friend.
Some misguided theologians have wrongly concluded that animals have no souls. But the fools have clearly never met Wallace.
You see, Wallace appeared one day, walking methodically on the curb of the street, with neck bent and eyes to the ground as he advanced in the silent countenance of the downtrodden. We saw he was a castaway, or perhaps recently escaped from a life that had become unbearable. He slowed to a nervous halt before us and sat, still gazing at the pavement. He wore no identification, but his unspoken tribulations were as evident in his eyes as pure humility was in his demeanor. Thus, he came into the membership and service of my family. Observing him ever since, I have been continually impressed by his wisdom and prudence, convicted of my own shortcomings in the face of his noble gestures.
Wallace, Scottie-Yorkish-American:
Although his ancestry is unchronicled, Wallace is clearly a descendent of European immigrants, doubtless of a noble lord’s house, who, coming to America, exchanged a pureblooded inheritance to embrace the mores of liberal democracy.
Wallace and the English language:
We do not quite know how Wallace learned to understand rudimentary English, but noted early his tendency to sit between people, look into their faces and turn from one to the other as they spoke, lifting his ears in reaction to certain words as he listened. Attempting to choose a language to command him, we quickly discovered he had already adopted ours as a second - just as immigrants have in the past, embracing English as a cornerstone of our national unity and identity. Thus, we may speak to Wallace in complete sentences.
Wallace and foreign policy:
During visits home, I like to meditate outside with a cigarette before bed. Wallace is keenly aware of this ritual, which to him is an occasion of joy beyond my comprehension. When I, like a commander-in-chief, release him into the front yard, Wallace flies into action, securing our homeland like a tiny, black Stealth Fighter. He seeks an elusive foe, Miss Kitty - a feline who, unbeknownst to Wallace, has established a surveillance stronghold on our roof. Though he cannot see her, Wallace’s tenacity shows that he is rightly convinced of her presence within our borders, and seems intent on maintaining a pre-emptive policy of unilateral defense and aggression to meet her threat.
Wallace and gender roles:
We may never fully understand Wallace’s feelings about being neutered.
Yet his maleness is manifest in his nature, unalterable by surgery or outward cosmetic. He is first to lift his leg in the neighborhood, last to admit defeat when wrestling the strong arm of his master.
Unlike many dogs of his stature, Wallace does not "piddle" when excited, but often chooses to spin his body in violent, premeditated circles to communicate an overabundance of joy, not unlike King David, who gloried in the presence of the Lord.
Wallace and the sinless nature:
He trips along with gentle confidence, on little pads that have ever-trotted upon right pathways. His heart, though compressed within his miniature ribcage, swells with love and loyalty beyond its size. In obeying his inborn purposes, he sins not.
The eternal life of Wallace:
Even so, it seems Wallace has mistakenly guessed that I must be the Christ. That is to say, he looks with eyes of absolute faith upon me, as Lord and Master. He appears to understand that his freedom exists, not despite his boundaries and my authority, but because of them.
A dog’s glory is to follow its master to the end, if only to die at his feet. A wild, untrained dog can survive, but not happily, because it is the dog’s very nature to serve, trust and follow. But alone and without discipline, a dog’s existence proves meaningless, worthless and miserable.
Thank God for Wallace, who sits even now beneath his favorite tree, where there are none to make him afraid. In him there is much to be hoped.