Finn File - Hound Over Human
So there’s a lot of action going on around here at the moment that I don’t really understand. They tell me it all happened exactly a year ago at this time and it’s something the humans call Christmas, although old Hesp - who thinks he’s boss of this place - says it goes back to the times when dogs first took people under their belt.
He looks at me and says: “You’ve no idea, little Finn. Your great-grandaddy-times-one-thousand came out of the forest with my great-grand-daddy-times-a-thousand, and together we began to take over the planet.”
And then he goes and spoils it all by adding: “Well, my great-grandad times a thousand did most of the taking over, and your ancestors helped out a bit.”
Anyway, despite all that I kind of get what he’s talking about. He refers to this strange midwinter solstice when the days are so, so short and the nights of so blinking long. This wouldn’t worry me too much because I can run around and hunt in the dark just as well as I can in the day, but you want to see those humans coming up the track from the road on a pitch black winter’s night.
Relying on just a pair of eyes in such circumstances will not cut the mustard. You need a highly tuned sense of smell as well. It’s amazing to me to see how a human without a torch is rendered just about useless on a moonless night.
You have to laugh at old Hespie, staggering up the track - very carefully sticking one foot forward in case it bangs into something - then equally carefully placing it down on the ground to make sure it’s proper terra-firm rather than the slippery river bank.
He’s got his arms extended like some zombie, revolving his hands this way and that so that his fingers can feel the darkness for something that shouldn’t be there. Like a tree.
Normally, in daylight, it would take him under 60 seconds to get from the lane to the house up the track - but in the dark it’ll often be over two minutes.
And then he has the nerve to tell me that it was his great-granddaddy one thousand times over who led the way out of the primeval forests. Which makes me laugh as I dance up and down the moonless path chasing the odd late squirrel as I go.
“How can your species ever have led anything when you can’t even see in the dark?” is what I say to him. Or would do, if I had this stupid canine-human translation helmet connected. Which I can’t of course because it needs a big clumsy thing called a computer in order to work - and I’m not going to be dragging one of those around after me any time soon.
However, I am thinking about writing a book on the subject of canine superiority when it comes to the two species. Homo-sapiens might think it’s the superior one with its aeroplanes, TVs, dog-collars, fitted kitchens and man-made dog bowls - but what’s the point of any of it if you can’t see in the dark?
No… I am thinking a nice coffee table style book with loads of illustrations as to why dogs are superior to men would go down well in a lot of homes. The working title for the moment is Four Legs Better Than Two, and I think I’ll subtitle it Wag Your Tail If You Have One.
And with that potential present question answered, I’ll leave you lot to your Christmas preparations while I go off to compile that very long list that I’m calling Hound Over Human.
