Medieval Dog Would Not Be Impressed with Our Dog

A Brave Mad Medieval Dogs

As a Mad Medieval historian of all things dog, I've spent my life studying the great canines of the past. The war dogs of Rome, the faithful hunting companions of feudal lords, the humble herders of the British Isles—these were dogs with a purpose. They earned their keep with grit, loyalty, and the occasional battle to the death with a very grumpy badger.

Recently I watched a modern day a pampered Pomeranian named Sir Fluffington III reject a gourmet meal. "Overcooked," he reportedly whined, turning his nose up at what appeared to be perfectly good beef.

In medieval times, the common dog would have fought for that beef. They'd have done unspeakable things for a half-eaten turnip! But the modern dog, as far as I can tell, is to look like a cotton ball with anxiety and wear tiny sweaters.

The cats, meanwhile, have become even more ridiculous. I watched in horror as a modern Persian named Princess Sparkle was hand-fed because her pâté was "uninspired." Her medieval ancestors were revered for keeping the world from being overrun by rats. This cat, by contrast, is revered for her ability to tolerate being dressed as a little bumblebee. The indignity, the humiliation.

In the old days, dogs did not have "playdates." They had "hunting expeditions." Their "toys" were not squeaky rubber ducks, but the discarded femur of a boar they just chased for three days. And they certainly didn't have "emotional support animals." Imagine that, no certificates was ever required.

Frankly, the pets of today have gone soft. I bet they'd trade all their diamond collars and fancy food for a simple, honest-to-goodness scrap of bacon.

A Final Historical Note

My final observation, and perhaps the most tragic, is this: Medieval pets didn't need certification from a therapist. Their mental well-being was a direct result of being constantly busy either fighting off predators, hunting for food, or trying to avoid being stepped on by a serf. In fact, the only "anxiety vest" a medieval dog knew was a suit of tiny, ill-fitting chainmail. So, the next time your fluffy pooch starts trembling at the sound of a vacuum cleaner, just remember its great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grand-dog would have already wrestled that vacuum to the floor and claimed it as its own territory.

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