 "A Dog is a Dog is a Dog..." An essay on Loyalty and Trust by Tony Rollo Among the most precious relationships this world has ever known is that of a boy and his dog. My boyhood friend was a loyal beagle named Klondyke. So it was a joy to discover as a boy the classic story of "Old Yeller". It tore at my young heart to be introduced to the concepts of loyalty and loss. Today we have two loyal beagles; "Klondyke the Third" and "Tamborine the Wonder Dog". Loyalty given is a precious commodity. One thing I do know is that a dog will teach a human what real loyalty is all about. Is loyalty equal to trust? Loyalty cannot exist without trust. Trust is merely a component of being loyal. Is loyalty a blind faith into that which we are loyal? Why are my dogs so loyal to me? Why is it when I say certain words they obey? At any moment, I can say the word "HOUSE" and my dogs dart into their dog house. They then peer out from the doorway waiting for me to tell them it is alright to emerge. How did this come about? Through repitition and reward. The carrot on a stick methodology. Are these dogs so blindly loyal to me or is it that from past experience they have learned to do so? Trust is earned. It is a relationship grown from past expectancies. My dogs do know these truths: I am the bringer of food. I am the patter of heads. The rubber of ribs. The thrower of the fetching stick. I am the pack leader. For these reasons they understand the hand that feeds them and are loyal to that hand. I am a benevolent master, but a master all the same. Upon moving north full time to Tennessee over a decade ago, I have met some wonderful Americans. I have heard heartful testimonies of what Liberty means and what it means to be an American by birth and Southern by the Grace of God. And then I came apon a different kind of dog. One on two legs that said he was a "yeller dog". I had first assumed it was a humourous quip and reference to that old story I had read as a boy. But I was soon to discover that it was a dog of a different color altogether. He spoke of loyalty to a political party. This "yeller dog" had been known to me in professional circles for some time. I had heard him to express himself about America and Liberty on several occasions. Upon his words, I had assumed this person stood a certain way politically and was shocked to hear that he was compelled to vote only for this certain party in all elections no matter what. No matter what? It didn't matter who was running. It didn't matter what the person on his party's ticket stood for. It didn't matter if that candidate stood for the opposite in which this man's core beliefs were. It only mattered what the candidate's party affiliation was. To add insult to himself as well as possible potential injury, he explained it was to honor his father. His father voted for this particular party. His father's father did so. And so on. His father compelled him to do so "for the good of America" he explained. When I asked what would necessitate this generational dogma he could only repeat himself as if I were hard of hearing. His father voted that way. His grandfather voted that way. And so on. He added the final nail by saying that we must be loyal and honor our fathers' wishes. Suddenly I understood. This man was indeed a dog. This man wanted his head patted. He wanted his ribs rubbed. He wanted to chase the fetching stick. He wanted to be fed. He didn't really want a master but he was mastered all the same. Perhaps this was merely a projection of seeing leaders as some sort of paternal master? But what about the reason? If there was a reason, I wanted to hear it. I respected this man. I respected his opinions just as I would respect the opinions of anyone under Liberty. I wanted to hear the reason because it could be potentially good for me and expand my greater understanding. But all I could get out was a lesson in loyalty to a geneological lineage and equating this to honor. Of course we must honor our forefathers! But I was taught by my grandfather that honor was not blind faith. He taught me beyond mere words about honor with his own actions. He taught me about faith and trust through his actions. In an attempt to assimilate these thoughts, my mind drifted toward the stories I had read about feuding families. The Hatfields and McCoys, Issac and Ishmael and so on. They had feuded so very long, some of them for thousands of years, that they themselves could not remember what started it all. Then, a spark of realization. My mind clicked onto the thought of this ongoing rivalry of North and South. This event that occured 150 and more years ago and tore the United States apart may be an answer. Something I could never understand myself even after a lot of personal investigation and soul searching in my life. I remembered my eleventh grade high school history teacher from Boston who had taught us about the "Reconstruction" that followed the war. She asked the question of why we sometimes make some of our generals the President of the United States. In her heavy yankee accent she taught us that President Grant sat around with his crony cabinet, drank wiskey, smoked cigars and punished the South. She also was beside herself over Sherman's bloody and ruthless march to the sea that was so celebrated as heroic in song and story in the North. I also remembered how Horace Greeley, the most powerful newspaper publisher at the time who ferverently supported Grant in his first term run for President, just as ferverently ran against Grant in the following election as a "Liberal Republican". Again the words of my high school history teacher echoed from my memory compelling the class to dig deeper in history because history books are written by the victors. And now a theory formed. I put together as many pieces as I could before me. Could it be that because the administration at the time of "Reconstruction" happened to be of the "other" party that this generational tradition began? Would going against the tradition of "no matter what" be the modern equivalent of "swallowing the dog"? Elementary school is where I first heard that the "War Against the States" was a struggle of brother against brother. So as a national family we did once have a bitter family feud. And just as those other sibling rivalries of history reveal the dangers and futility of blind tradition, so goes the bigotries of both sides. Once we forget the "why" of our traditions, we cannot see the "who" anymore. Upon that we open ourselves to deception and manipulation. Obviously, that is far from the intentions of our fathers on both sides to honor them. We are one nation. The arrogance in the North must end as well as the grudges in the South. This is now. Thanks to Ms Etling wherever you are. Some teachers do make a difference, don't they?. - Tony Rollo / 2009 ALL CONTENTS © Tony Rollo - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED |