THE DOG IN ACTION

With such a variety of sizes, complexions and sensorial sharpness, dogs don't stop amazing us for their almost infinite repertory of abilities, with their amazing ability to make great things. From the self-discipline of the working dog to the delicious pranks of puppies, from the unwavering determination of the tracker to the rapid elegance of the Greyhound and the capricious intelligence of the Poodle, dogs develop in front of our eyes a widest range of talents and conducts. Jumping after a ball, or barriers in an agility contest, seriously working or freely running in the countryside, every dog in motion has a particular character.

They call me "cynic" (dog) because I serve adulate to the person who gives me anything, I loudly howl to the person who gives me nothing and I have no doubts to bite to shameless.

Diógenes (h. 400-h 325 b. C.)

It was inevitable to fight to be at the head... I was already a part of him because the nameless pride has taken him, that incomprehensible pride of the track and the trace... that pride that makes all dogs get together to make efforts up to last breath, that makes them die happy on the leash and sadly die if are set free...

Jack London, The Call of The Wild, 1903.

The months passed and the alliance between the dog and the man became unbreakable. It was the old pact, the one the first wolf that arrived from the wild sealed with man.

dog rain coats

And White Fang, as all the wolfs and wild dogs since then signed again with their own names. The terms of the agreement were very simple; he would receive God in flesh and bones and, in exchange, he will give up his own freedom... his loyalty to man seemed to be on him a most powerful law than love and freedom and the love for its own species and its own family.

Jack London, White Fang, 1906.

Here lies who never poured his own Blood for himself, even when he killed so many...

Well-built, brawny, they used to run terrified just by looking at him. From that one who reaches the highest point of fame, just guiding himself by his sense of smell.

William Cowper, an Epitaph, 1779.

Who would be able to find me anywhere, either close or far? Who would, following the track of my foot, find me, who, if I whistle, will always hear no matter where I am? Just my Rover.

John Clare, My Rover, 1809.

It is very difficult not to notice if you haven't bred, drawn or appointed dogs, that there are not two of them that are physically equal. It is enough with going to hunt with them one day to realize that every single one of them have his own individual character.

And only the intimacy of the everyday life allows you to learn that his mind is subtle, that his ears smell like ham and that his wet truffle leaves a salty flavor in the mouth.

George Bird Evans, A Dog, A Gun And Time Enough, 1971.