THE PUREST KIND OF LOVE

The more I watch people, the more I love my dog.

I can't help feeling that for every good person and for every good deed, there is a shit perpetrating shite.

I would love the default position to be this: expect humanity to behave with humanity, honesty, decency and compassion. We have been evolving long enough as a species to hold those things as universal truths and aims. Or have we? Apparently still a very long way to go.

Which is why I so completely agree with Mark Twain. “The more I learn about people, the more I like my dog.” Not just Mark Twain. Similar sentiments have been expressed by several savants. It’s why I like those people I can trust, and do, and dislike the public which I can’t and don’t.

But in my case, and putting humanity to one side, “like” is nothing like strong enough. For the small, brown-and-tan four-legged person who owns us, I feel such strong love that it hurts sometimes, and it is a love so complete and so pure that it rides alongside pretty well everything and everyone I hold dear, and frequently ahead.

I love and am furiously defensive of my family and woe-betide anyone who does harm to any of them. They will be harmed right back, using the law as a club. But if anyone were to harm Mitchy, I would look for the nearest cleaver and kill them. That is how strongly I feel.

Of course, I am capable of falling slightly in love with just a handful of women — but that’s “in love” and utterly incapable of being requited. It does not last, either; just as long as I can see them on screen. Julia Roberts, with that mouth and smile which should be declared illegal. Ellie Harrison, who stomps about in our TV programme “CountryFile” and who has a face so beautiful and animated that it almost certainly causes men to walk into lamposts. Fiona Bruce, BBC presenter extraordinaire, talented beyond reason, stunning of face and figure, with a bedroom voice beyond resistance and the carriage of an unconsciously sexy monarch.

I no longer have any need to prove or demonstrate my love by means of the joining of genitalia. Been there, done that, had my share and quite a lot more than.

So now, I glory in the deep love of our little doglet boy, and bask in the affection I receive in return. He demands nothing but to be fed (just enough) walked (as much as possible and more than we can) and loved (no more than all the time).

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Broadcaster, academic, journalist, columnist, humorist. Show- off contrarian. Seriously centrist politics junkie. British Americanophile.

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Dr John Grierson

Dr John Grierson

Broadcaster, academic, journalist, columnist, humorist. Show- off contrarian. Seriously centrist politics junkie. British Americanophile.

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