what have i done?

so, here's something interesting:

if you use google* to search for "malcolm gladwell disqualifying statement," my useless, ever so peripherally related blog is the first result on the first page. the slate entry that i stole the title and idea from? nowhere in sight. seriously, it doesn't even make an appearance in eight pages of links. how unfair! i mean, it isn't as if i weren't doing right by the man—i doubt he's getting so much free, cloyingly adulatory advertising from any other source—and i put a link to the slate piece (which is about ten years old now) right there on the page, but still . . . i feel a little guilty about it.

so, by way of apology, let me lavish some premature (i haven't read the entire piece yet) praise on my most best beloved secret boyfriend for the second installment in his zealous crusade for canine-embracing empathy, "what the dog saw" (the new yorker, may 22, 2006), in which he profiles cesar millan, host of the national geographic channel's the dog whisperer. he's also done a little q & a regarding the piece for the magazine's web site, and clearly i would like you to check that out as well. seeing as how i've already gone to the trouble to provide a link for you, it's probably the least you could do.

anyway, on dogs: they're great. they're sincere and loyal and loving and fuzzy, and i'm convinced that they know more about interpreting human behavior than any actual humans out there. so is malcolm, and he uses millan as a pretty effective vehicle to prove that point. having worked for many, many years now in settings where otherwise flawless dogs are apt to behave like angel-dusted bare-knuckle boxers, i am particularly sensitive to the profound effect that our demeanors can have on animals. it isn't surprising that dogs, especially injured or ill dogs who are aware of their vulnerability, get a little stand-offish when in a strange place and surrounded by strange people, many of whom are attempting to force foreign objects into various parts of the frightened puppies' anatomies or stretch them into unnatural positions. the only thing in the human realm comparable to the experience your dog has at the vet's is being abducted and probed by aliens. it's weird and it's scary, and the reflexive response is to go on guard. what is surprising, to me at least, is how many people become aggressive in response to this defensiveness. it's important to be firm, sure, but these aren't dingos, they're people's pets. you can be firm and reassuring at the same time, and that's what someone's confused and frightened pet would probably most like you to be. you don't need to yell at an animal that's cringing. you just don't. but lots and lots and lots of people will do it anyway, and it makes everything worse. the same principles apply in training. if you and your dog are fighting like, well, like dogs over everything that goes on in your house, your dog will never understand that it needs to listen to you. it'll just continue to compete with you. you have to win your dog's respect, and when's the last time you bowed your head in deference to an angry bully? it ought to be so obvious . . .

but i guess it isn't, and so cesar millan is making a television show about it, and malcolm, because he's a darling, has written a story about it. and he's done it the way he does everything: quietly, analytically, dorkily, and with just the right amount of emotionally motivated emphasis in all the right places. he's a good guy. he's a good writer. better than me, even. so put my honey's work back on top where it belongs.




* no, i will not use "google" as a verb. shame on you.