Japanese Dogs and Toy French Poodles

Are they different because they're Japanese? Have they inherited biologically a greater sense of duty and heroism from their general culture? Or are they representative of all dogs? We know canines to be man's best friend, but we didn't know they could extend their loyalty and devotion to each other.

Six or seven million YouTube viewers saw the clip of a wet, bedraggled parti-colored hound in a muddy northern village washed away in the tsunami, refusing to abandon a friend -- an injured spotted dog, lying beside a broken drain pipe. The hound goes so far as to put his paw over the face of his friend when a human tries to lure him away with the scent of food. Can animals really be this noble? I hardly know a person this noble in my town, and there's nothing wrong with my town, as far as I know. But we haven't been tested this way. Perhaps the problem is complacency born of ease. Maybe nobility surfaces only at times of hardship and trial.

Well, thank God Sugar is not in Japan, and neither am I. And believe me, I do not make light of the awesome tragedy unfolding there, growing worse as the days progress and our information increases. I sent money to the Red Cross today, thinking that of all organizations, the likeliest to get the money quickly and efficiently into the hands of the populace would be the IRC.

But my mind kept wandering nevertheless. What if disaster should strike us here in New Jersey? What if I were incapacitated, and had only Sugar at hand to help me? How prepare for that? Should I try to teach Sugar to dial 911? Toy Poodles, as I don't have to reiterate -- but will -- are the geniuses of the canine kingdom. I would bet a pretty penny I could teach her to use the phone. But what would she say? Would an arf be enough to alert the operator to send the Rescue Squad to my house? And all things considered, what else could I train a five pound squirt to do? I'm light at 110, but can I seriously expect this pooch, the size of a dinner bag, to drag me to safety in case of a fire or sudden heart attack? Could she get me out the door?

Maybe I should have gotten a full-sized Poodle, one who can actually climb the stairs herself. But it's too late for that now. No, I'm afraid that practical aid from Sugar in an emergency is not one of those things about her of which I can boast. Yes, even in this besotted blog, sometimes we must admit failure. A woof or two, copious tears, much licking about the face and ears, and that's about all I'd get in the way of help. Better than nothing; I'd probably have to worry about getting her out of the house. But there you have it: no use trying to prepare over-much for future calamity. I'm enjoying Sugar now, and she's enjoying me (and my Franco-Jewish cooking); we're both happier for being together. That's enough, and more. We bid all our readers the luxury of being complacent, of living and loving in the moment, and letting the future look after itself.