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| Dora |
The Dingo is the embodiment of a
free and natural spirit; independent, noble and aloof, dignified and graceful,
quiet and reflective; an animal of tremendous loyalty and compassion for
members of their family group or the human fortunate enough to have the trust
and love of this most intriguing native Australian.
There are countless tales of the
devotion of the Dingo to a mate caught in a trap, poisoned, or incapacitated in
some way; of a bitch deliberately making a
target of herself to decoy a would be enemy from her helpless pups; not
aggressive enough to attack, but courageous enough to die for those she loves.
Over the many years I have been
privileged to share with my Dingoes, I have been continually amazed at the
breed's devotion to a loved one, the ability to question and reason, but
nothing has affected me so completely as Dora's love for Joker.
Our young Dingo Dora, and our
elderly Cattle Dog Joker (Champion Wooleston Blue Joker C.D.) had been running
together for four years (but not bred), Dora showing her adoration for Joker in
every conceivable manner at all times, he accepting her devotion with pride,
jealously guarding her from rivals - real or imagined.
It had been obvious that Joker's sight was failing, and on several
occasions at dusk he had run into a closed gate thinking it open. One night I
arrived home late after a meeting, and Joker and Dora were still running in the
grass enclosure. I opened the kennel door, calling to them. Dora ran straight
in, but Joker held back. She returned to him and tried to shepherd him over to,
and through, the gateway. He came close, but would not attempt to enter the
yard, jumping up and down in confusion, uncertain as to whether the gate really
was open. Again and again Dora ran behind him, coming up close to his side, her
neck cradling his face to encourage him to move forward with her guidance.
Continuing in her efforts to
inspire confidence, she became increasingly agitated at his obvious fear and
confusion. My fatigue forgotten, I watched in astonishment and pride, the
desperate efforts of this Dingo bitch to assist her mate. Fondling his face
with her muzzle, her every movement displaying her increasing concern, she
glanced appealingly at me, then back to Joker and going to him I gently lifted
him into the kennel yard, his safe arrival greeted by an overjoyed Dora who ran
to him and embraced him, then to me, her incredibly beautiful eyes mirroring
the gratitude she felt in my helping her loved one.
In the Dingo, I so often see acts
of compassion, tenderness and kindness; characteristics so often lacking in our
own society. Is it this distinctive quality that reminds man of his own
inadequacies, jealously blinding him in a fury of brutality and hate for that
which he cannot, or will not, accept? It is sad that the very qualities that
endear the Dingo to so many are, through ignorance, the cause of much of the
intolerance and. prejudice in others. Perhaps through a better understanding of
the Dingo, we will better understand ourselves.
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