An Earth Day Celebration of Dogs

There's always a lot to put your mind to on Earth Day . . . or any other day, for that matter. But as this blog is about dogs, I'd like to reflect on what our world might be like if the canine species were to suddenly disappear.
In large parts of the third world, where dogs are not family pets as we know them, but are part of village life, conditions would deteriorate rapidly. Dogs are a necessary part of keeping the village clean and livable, clean-up crews on four legs. So disease and death would likely increase. Also, in many of these societies, dogs are treasured hunting companions, so the supply of food would also likely suffer.
But those places are far away in other lands. So perhaps some thoughts closer to home. . .
Humans have not yet been able to construct a smelling device as efficient as a dog's nose, so all those searches for explosives, drugs, contraband, and fleeing suspects would be rendered much less efficient. Lost people, avalanche victims, and potential survivors of natural disasters would stand less chance of being located and rescued in time.
The blind and the disabled would lose one of their best assistance devices, as well as a huge measure of companionship.
The emerging "one world" aspect of medicine and research would suffer a huge setback. Dogs are a natural subject for medical research, and I don't mean as lab rats. They suffer many of the same diseases as humans and share our environment intimately, so advances in canine medicine often lead to similar advances in human medicine.
Farmers and ranchers would lose one of their most able employees. Who else is going to be so efficient at controlling a flock of geese in a yard or an enormous herd of sheep spread across miles of grazing land?
A whole industry would disappear. Dog trainers, groomers, dog show judges, dog writers would all be summarily out of work.
But most of all, the world would be a much lonelier place. Studies have shown that talking to a loved one (of the human variety) increases blood pressure, whereas taling to or petting a dog, even one you don't know, lowers blood pressure. But we don't need studies to know how good dogs are for us.
So on this Earth Day, I pledge to continue my recycling as usual, to try even harder to remember my cloth bags when I go shopping, to celebrate my new-this-year photovoltaic panels, to drive my Prius proudly. . . and to cherish my canine friends even more.

Companionship

Rather than write about something serious this week, I thought I would share a prose poem I wrote for StreamFest, our local celebration of our land trust. They asked for art celebrating the North Olympic Peninsula here in Washington. Of course, my thoughts include my dog. I hope you enjoy them.

My dog and I walk the beach.
Well, I walk.
He runs the curl of the wave, herding its break onto the shore.
I look down, hoping to add to the jumble of beach glass, agates, and figured rocks in my pocket.
I look up as an eagle soars overhead, flapping perhaps twice to drift easily over
Protection Island.
Mount Baker seems impossibly near, just a skip across the island to the mountain.
The splash of sea salt mixes with pine scent and decaying seaweed in a perfume unmatched.
Clouds scud by, patterning the water dark, perhaps hiding a sea monster.
My dog runs up, happy mouth open, and shakes a spray of water across my legs.
I send him to the base of the bluffs to sniff for mastodon teeth. . .
Maybe one day we'll find one.
I pull my coat down to sit on its tail in defense against the damp of the beach log.
My dog runs up the beach to challenge some gulls.
A mist is starting to fall.
But we are happy.