Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Dia de los Perros II: The Further Mysteries and Mythos of Dogs


Not all myths and stories cast canines in a positive light. Dog-like anima have always cased the shaded borderlands of our psyches. The mutant mongrels and werewolves that prowl vast stretches of that fearsome place are strange and varied. Anubis, Egyptian god of the underworld, had the head of a jackal, and Cerberus, the guardian at the gates of the Greek underworld, was a three-headed dog. This myth was borrowed by J.K. Rawlings to create the three-headed giant, Fluffy, guard dog of the Chamber of Secrets in Harry Potter. Conan Doyle’s classic Hound of the Baskervilles also tells of our darker projections onto dogs.

If our dogs be truly magical, then in late October and early November, when the veil between this world and the next is said to be tissue thin, let us keep them close so they can alert us to things indecipherable by our feeble human faculties. Not only can they hear and smell with more acuity than we can, they also have a well-documented sixth sense. According to the research of Rupert Sheldrake in his book, Dogs that Know When Their Owners Are Coming Home and Other Unexplained Powers of Animals, many dogs can sense impending natural disasters, threats to their owners, insulin reactions, and epileptic seizures. Obviously, dogs move gracefully through worlds that remain completely hidden from us.

So in this season of dimming light, pay close attention to the canine by your side. When you walk him in the evening, take note of each twitch of his nose and twist of his ear. What could he be sensing? One of your dearly departed friends or relatives returning to pay a Halloween visit? A packmate long past, divided from him only by that wispy curtain called time?

If you can’t find a clay dog to place on your Day of the Dead altar, perhaps another ritual will do. Sit quietly and remember the names of all your dearly departed canine allies. Imagine them somewhere deep in the darkness, sniffing the breeze for your scent, eagerly awaiting your reunion for one last, great adventure.

Note: The evocative illustration is by Alison Smith

Monday, October 29, 2007

Dia de los Perros: The Mystery and Mythos of Dogs


This article originally appeared in the San Francisco Bay Area dog monthly Bay Woof, under one of my pseudonyms, Colin Ortiz.

When you think about it, it's not surprising that dogs and doglike creatures are so prevalent in the ancient wisdom traditions. Since the first wild dog crept out of a moonless night to join prehistoric folk ‘round their campfire, our species has related canines with the mysterious unseen world. This belief has generated both affection and fear in the minds of human beings for ages.

On the positive side, finally a powerful ally had appeared to accompany us on our anxious patrols into the shadows. Dogs – with their special gifts of heightened hearing and smell, strength, courage, speed, loyalty, and intimidating built-in weapons – were embraced as furry demigods who could be counted as comrades in encounters with dark forces. As comforters, protectors, and living advanced warning systems against all things that go bump in the night, dogs became bonded with humans in one of the tightest symbiotic relationships on Earth. It’s a bond that has survived for 15,000 years.

In the twilight zones of our hearts, where the mysteries of the changing seasons and the hovering presence of the afterworld are felt on chilly October evenings, we still yearn for the sound of four steady paws padding out before us into the unknown.

For most of recorded history, humans have valued the comforting presence of dogs so highly that we’ve even tried to take them with us beyond the portals of this life, knowing they would aid us in whatever journey awaited. For instance, ancient Egyptians often mummified dogs so they’d be there to help them along in the afterlife.

In a similar vein, Aztecs often were cremated with small dogs tied around their necks. Joseph Campbell wrote of this ritual in Hero with a Thousand Faces: “The departed swam on this small animal when he passed the river of the underworld.” After four years of passage, braving “mountains that clash,” “a giant serpent,” “eight deserts of freezing cold,” and “winds of the obsidian knives,” together man and dog would arrive before the god of the underworld, who would admit them both to “the Ninth Abyss” (but only if their paperwork was in order). To this day, many who celebrate Dia de los Muertos add a clay dog to the altar in a nod to this ancient custom.

Indigenous Americans also honored dogs in their pantheon of mythic beings. Their trickster god, Coyote, provided them with one of Nature’s most powerful forces – fire – having used his cunning to steal it on their behalf.

Of course, dogs have not always benefited from the human belief that they are privy to the ultimate mysteries. The Greeks and Romans regarded canines so highly that they stamped their visages on coins, but they also sacrificed them to placate the Immortals.

Despite our generally positive feelings about dogs. clearly our psychic relationship with them has been macabre in many ways— especially where they play on our doubts and fears. On Wednesday— Caninoids from the Underworlds in Dia de Los Muertos II.