{"id":5728,"date":"2020-01-20T07:24:08","date_gmt":"2020-01-20T15:24:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/?p=5728"},"modified":"2020-01-20T07:24:10","modified_gmt":"2020-01-20T15:24:10","slug":"dogs-reigning-in-my-mind-part-14","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/meditations\/dogs-reigning-in-my-mind-part-14\/","title":{"rendered":"Dogs Reigning in My Mind (Part 14)"},"content":{"rendered":"<!-- wp:themify-builder\/canvas \/-->\n\n\n<p>Lord Byron wrote an epitaph for his\nbeloved Newfoundland named Boatswain, who died of rabies. Byron\nburied his friend in a tomb\/monument that was larger than the one\nconstructed after his death. It is perhaps the largest structure ever\nbuilt memorializing a dog in history, excepting the two driftwood\nforts I built memorializing the deaths of two of my dogs. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Part of the epitaph reads: \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Near\nthis Spot<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>are\ndeposited the Remains of one<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>who\npossessed Beauty without Vanity,<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>Strength\nwithout Insolence,<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>Courage\nwithout Ferocity,<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>and\nall the virtues of Man without his Vices.<\/em><em><br><br><\/em><em>This\npraise, which would be unmeaning Flattery<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>if\ninscribed over human Ashes,<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>is\nbut a just tribute to the Memory of<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>Boatswain,\na Dog<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>who\nwas born in Newfoundland May 1803<\/em><em><br><\/em><em>and\ndied at Newstead Nov. 18th, 1808<\/em><br><br>\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Byron got it: The very best you can say\nabout a great dead dog doesn&#8217;t work as praise for a great dead human\nbeing. It sounds utterly phony. Why is that? What&#8217;s missing there? In\n<em>Catcher in the Rye<\/em>, Holden would have greatly benefited from\nhaving a dog around. He was friendless, neurotic, impulsive, and if\never there is medicine for those afflictions, it&#8217;s a dog. Imagine the\ndialogue Salinger could have written for Holden talking (ranting) to\nhis dog! Talking about phonies!<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In Shakespeare&#8217;s comedy <em>Two\nGentleman of Verona,<\/em> easily the greatest play where a dog\ninspires the best of humanity, the servant Launce demonstrates\nunswerving loyalty to his little mutt Crab, and won&#8217;t leave him\nbehind as he accompanies his master on a journey to Milan. During the\nplay, Launce delivers multiple monologues about Crab and the extent\nof  his suffering on behalf of the dog. <em>I&#8217;ll be sworn, I have sat\nin stocks for puddings he hath stolen<\/em>. He won&#8217;t give up the dog.\nHuman beings give up on human beings all the time (and sometimes,\ndogs, too.) When did a dog ever give up on a human being? It is the\nworst feeling in the world to know when someone dear to you has given\nup on you, particularly at the critical moment you most need their\nloyalty and might possibly die without it. Launce&#8217;s\nmonologues make me think Shakespeare got dogs, and with the same\nabsolute profundity he got the interior lives of human beings, their\ncolors and contours, their contradictions and conniving. The Bard&#8217;s\ninsight into dogs begs the question: can a human being who doesn&#8217;t\nget dogs, really get human beings? Another question: can a human\nbeing who gets dogs not really get human beings?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>One\nwonders if the productions of <em>Two Gentleman of Verona<\/em>\nby the King&#8217;s Men back in the day featured a real dog on stage. Or\ndid a human get to play Crab and act like a dog that inspires a human\nto become a better human? \n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Lord Byron wrote an epitaph for his beloved Newfoundland named Boatswain, who died of rabies. Byron buried his friend in a tomb\/monument that was larger than the one constructed after his death. It is perhaps the largest structure ever built memorializing a dog in history, excepting the two driftwood forts I built memorializing the deaths [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":5729,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-5728","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-meditations","has-post-title","has-post-date","has-post-category","has-post-tag","has-post-comment","has-post-author",""],"builder_content":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5728","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5728"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5728\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5731,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5728\/revisions\/5731"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/5729"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5728"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5728"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nestuccaspitpress.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5728"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}