"On the crest of a hill, a wolf watched a cave clan with great interest and no intention of attacking. He stares quizzically at the people and the fire in the night, somehow drawn to them without chancing to approach. One of the young men notices the wolf in the moonlight and shadows. He feels no fear but also notices that he cannot totally look away. His curiosity was sparked and he felt a strange kinship too.
Night after night, the same scene replays between the wolf and man. One evening, the man throws a piece of meat toward the hill, sharing the tribes kill with the wolf. The wolf creeps down after the tribe is asleep, snatches the meat and runs off. Each night thereafter this same scenario plays out again, each time with braver, closer steps by man and wolf.
Then, it somehow dawns on the man that the wolf could become an associate, a useful friend. This was a whole new concept, frightening, yet appealing. The combination of opposites – wildness and tameness taxed the mind of this early valiant human. Within months the wolf was almost a pet; within years, a wolf was a dog.
On the other side, we imagine the wolf gazing and considering, “Can I trust this creature, man?” and deciding “Yes, I will trust him without yet knowing quite securely if I can.” It was the moment of unconditionality, the moment when he threw his lot in with humankind, for better or worse.
The first wolf risk-taker initiated centuries of willingness to attach his fate to that of human beings. This decision instigated ages of love and abuse, pleasure and pain, generosity and rejection. That wolf decided to stay with us humans, to love us unconditionally, to seek us out, to be happy only with us.
I became more appreciative, more welcoming of dogs. All I could think of was how dogs need human closeness to be fully themselves. That realization led me to see dogs with compassion and respect. They do not fear human closeness as often as I do. They do not abandon their friends, as I sometimes have. They do not give up on the possibility of human kindness, as I might someday do. Something life-affecting and deeply crucial to my personal growth happened. I grew in my comprehension of what love entails and how it sometimes smells not so good, or gets too wet, or knocks me down, or chases me, or dogs me, or wants to go out when I do not, or even wants to love me no matter how I smell of stay with me in any hell where I may dwell."
-David Richo in "Unexpected Miracles: The Gift of Synchronicity and How to Open to It"