There are sentences which, by their very simplicity, hold within them a deep and almost immutable truth. One of them, frequently attributed to Mark Twain, the literary pseudonym of Samuel Langhorne Clemens, writer, humorist, lecturer, and one of the most penetrating observers of human nature in American literature, declares: "The more I learn about people, the more I like my dog."
It is a thought to which I subscribe wholeheartedly, not out of discouragement, nor out of misanthropy, but out of experience, observation, and lucidity. Mark Twain, known for his biting wit, for his fine irony, and for his ability to lay bare, with humor and severity, the contradictions of human behavior, understood as few have that man's intelligence is not always accompanied by character, gratitude, or loyalty.
This is not to deny the dignity of the human condition, nor to ignore that there exist men and women of honor, of character, and of integrity, whose existence continues to ennoble society. Rather, it is to recognize a reality which life, as the years go by, takes upon itself to reveal: the human being, all too often, lets himself be led by self-interest, by convenience, by envy, by ingratitude, and by betrayal.
The dog, by contrast, knows nothing of duplicity. It does not smile to your face only to wound you behind your back. It does not calculate benefits, does not measure affection by the usefulness of those who receive it, does not abandon out of convenience, nor draw close out of ambition. The dog loves with a purity that man, in many cases, has long since forgotten.
In a world increasingly dominated by appearance, by social falsehood, and by the ease with which so many trade principles for fleeting advantages, the loyalty of a dog takes on almost the nature of a moral lesson. He stays. He waits. He protects. He accompanies. And, above all, he asks no more than what he gives in return: presence, affection, respect, and faithfulness.
There is in dogs a silent nobility that many human beings will never attain. The dog needs no speeches to prove its loyalty.
It proves it every day, in the watchful gaze, in the joy of the reunion, in the discreet vigilance, in the absolute devotion. Its affection is not negotiated. Its friendship is not conditional. Its faithfulness does not depend on circumstances.
Perhaps that is why so many people, after coming to know human nature well, find in their dogs a purer and truer form of company. Not because dogs replace people, but because they remind us of what people ought to strive to be: loyal, grateful, constant, and true.
Modern civilization speaks much of progress, but frequently forgets the elementary virtues. It speaks of rights, but forgets duties. It speaks of liberty, but forgets responsibility. It speaks of human relations, while allowing them, so often, to be marked by superficiality, by opportunism, and by the absence of one's word.
The dog, in his simplicity, remains untouched by all of that. He needs no theories in order to be faithful. He needs no speeches in order to show affection. He has no need to promise what he does not intend to fulfill. He simply is. And, by being, he teaches.
It is for this reason that, for me, to love dogs is also to recognize a higher form of loyalty. It is to admire discipline without arrogance, courage without vanity, tenderness without self-interest, and presence without calculation.
The more I know certain people, the more I understand the worth of my dogs. Not out of bitterness, but out of lucidity.
Because life teaches us that true loyalty is rare, that gratitude is ever more scarce, and that purity of character is a virtue no longer easily found.
In the end, perhaps this is the great lesson: man, for all his intelligence, still has much to learn from the dog.
César DePaço
Businessman and Philanthropist
Consul ad honorem of Portugal from 2014 to 2020
Founder and Chief Executive Officer of Summit Nutritionals International Inc.®
Founder and Chairman of the Board of The DePaço Foundation
Unwavering Defender of Law Enforcement and Conservative Principles