We will be wrestling, something he loves to do. We’ll be rolling on the floor
together, with his playful "Grrrrrrs", and I know he's trying to beat
me. I usually let him get on top of me and then flip him on his back and rub
his tummy - something else he loves. His paws, of course, have no opposable thumbs and so of course, he can’t grip
anything. He does what he can, he hold things the only way he knows, and so he
grabs my hand or fingers with his mouth. But he is gentle, oh so very gentle.
His jaws never push too hard, never hurt or mark me.
At these times, I often think of his ancestors, the
wolves, and how 25,000 years ago, wolves wouldn’t have yet been domesticated.
And they certainly wouldn't have been as small as my boy unless it was a pup.
And then I think of the time my wife and I were in France. We'd been to
visit Grottes préhistoriques de Cougnac, a cave which has paintings
on the walls. These pieces of art are around 30,000 years old. And
they are stunning. Simple line drawings, ochre and charcoal, unknown artists but believed
to be Cro-Magnon people. Beautiful beyond words. Moving and emotional.
That night
we sat under the stars with a glass of wine, and I remember thinking how
some of those who lived in that area at the time, perhaps even one of the
artists, might be one of my ancestors.
I thought about how they saw the same forests I
did, the same sky, the same stars. It felt positively prehistoric sitting there
in the middle of nowhere, and I felt an intense connection with my past, our
past.
And so I still have these thoughts and memories whenever I wrestle with my dog.
I often also imagine that we are transported back in time to live among them.
They are amazed I have a domestic "wolf" pup, and that he
plays. He can sit when I command, and likes to have his tummy
rubbed. And without sharing a language I try to explain that they needn't
worry, that they should be kind to him, not hurt him. I try to show them
that when he grabs me with his teeth he isn't hurting me, has no intention to
bite. He is a good, good boy. I imagine they wan't to go and kidnap their own
wolf puppy, as they have no idea where dogs came from. But I worry this
won't work and there is no way I can explain that to them.
I have no idea when my mind first linked my dog's ancestry to France and
Cro-Magnums via time travel. But it's there in my head and reminds me of
its existence frequently.
Maybe I need to pay attention to it and write a story about it.
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