(no subject)

[wickedflea]

Whoa--my retired-English-professor cousin has a blog. She's a cool one. I actually don't know her all that well; the most contact I've had with her was when I took her History of the English Language class a few years ago. Looks like something runs in the family, though--we apparently get a kick out of the same sort of stuff. Check out this picture she took somewhere in Alabama:



Looks like one I would take, no?

Oh man. Thinking of that English class just reminded me of a paper I wrote for it: "Dog Style." I just found it and read some of it. A few little things about the writing make me cringe (I guess that's always the way when you read what you wrote five years ago), but it still gave me a couple of laughs. bellastrega, you'll want to read this--it'll have you laughing about dawgs all over again.

Dog Style

Dog is one of those words that is so common in English that we don’t often stop to think about what it means. Certainly, dog has a fairly well-agreed-upon definition as "a quadruped of the genus Canis, of which wild species or forms are found in various parts of the world, and numerous races or breeds, varying greatly in size, shape, and colour, [which] occur in a domesticated or semi-domesticated state in almost all countries" (OED). However, we don’t always use dog to mean just that. We use it, with positive and negative connotations, to refer to people; we use it as a verb; we even use it to distinguish one kind of canine from another. Indeed, the word dog shows up in our language in many different ways, in matters stemming from many aspects of life.

According to The Oxford English Dictionary, the use of the word dog to refer to any canine of either sex has roots going back to at least 1050 AD. The word has had several forms, including docga, dogge, doggue, doig, and dogg. Dog has also been used more specifically to refer to certain canine breeds. Dog has also had a history of being used to refer to the male of the species, though this usage seems to have had a short-lived existence. The OED’s first cited usage of dog in this manner is from Barnabe Googe in 1577; the second is from George Washington in 1768; the last is from an 1890 Saturday Review. Despite the evidence that dog has had more specialized use, the predominant usage historically seems to be to mean any sort of canine animal, male or female.

Some of the most interesting uses of dog are those in which it is used to refer to a human being. Though we refer to the dog as "Man’s best friend," when we call people dogs, we are not usually trying to emphasize their most endearing qualities. Indeed, we seem to accept in our dogs certain qualities that we discourage in human beings. When we use dog to mean "lazy person," we scorn someone for exhibiting the same kind of behavior that we find appealing in our animals. We invite our canine friends to live in our homes rent-free and eat our food. However, we only accept such behavior from children and other feeble-minded and incapacitated persons; others we deride as "lazy dogs." Likewise, we generally find dogs to be cute, lovable, even handsome. When we say someone looks like a dog, however, we are not being complimentary. Fourteen-year-olds, who are often wont to letting their pets slobber all over their faces in displays of affection, nonetheless have no crueler insult in their vocabulary than dog. A toothy grin and a hairy face may be quite fetching on a pet, but they are not so attractive on a girlfriend. Strangely, sometimes dog is used to point out qualities we don’t usually associate with dogs. The OED gives one definition as "an informer; a traitor; esp. one who betrays fellow criminals." This usage shows humans at their least loyal, least trustworthy – their least dog-like.

Sometimes, however, dog is used with positive connotations. Contemporary slang sees members of a group of friends refer to each other as dogs, often as "my dogs." Within such groups, dog is a common nickname, often being combined with an initial or other identifying characteristic and sometimes having altered spelling: "H-Dog"; "Snoop Doggy Dogg." Similarly, dog is often used among friends to simultaneously poke fun at and stroke the ego of another person. If Lester knows that Chester is cheating on his wife, he may call him a dog; this shows that Lester has identified Chester as unprincipled but still worthy of admiration in spite of (and perhaps because of) his shortcomings.

Dog as a verb usually brings to mind the ability of hound-type dogs to pursue something or someone single-mindedly. That is, to dog can mean to haunt, to follow, or to chase. Likewise, the verb can also mean to use dogs to pursue someone or something. A sadly uncommon use of dog as a verb is to mean to furnish or stock with dogs. This usage brings to mind a vision of the Anti-Dogcatcher driving through the suburbs in a pickup with a big cage full of dogs in the back. "I’ve got six neighborhoods to dog today," he’d say with a smile. We should have Johnny Appleseed-type folk tales of pioneers who dogged the frontier when the land was young and dogs were scarce. Alas, the OED cites only one such usage, from 1661.

Dogs are so much a part of our culture that dog has shown up in many familiar turns of phrase. During flu season, many people are heard to exclaim, "I’m sick as a dog." Dogs don’t usually look sick; on the contrary, they usually look like they’re smiling. We probably don’t even usually know when our dogs are sick. Nonetheless, we insist on comparing our illnesses with theirs. We also often speak of being "dog-tired," an interesting phrase considering we also use dog to mean a lazy person or, as a verb, to be lazy.

When something is in a state of decline, we often say that it has "gone to the dogs." Whether the dogs are responsible for the object’s degradation or merely benefit from it is unclear. Perhaps this phrase comes from our tendency to throw something we don’t want anymore (especially food) to the dogs.

Dog turns up in some of the English language’s most disturbing images. When we speak of the cutthroat aspect of human nature, we often say that "it’s a dog-eat-dog world." Likewise, when it seems as if someone is never going to leave a place, we may say that he will stay "until the last dog is hung." In Western culture, the idea of eating dogs is abhorrent; likewise, the possibility that we’re going to start hanging dogs anytime soon is remote at best (though that would be a heck of a campaign strategy for some Pat Buchanan type: the death penalty for pit bulls who maul children and/or the elderly). In this way, our use of the word dog, like many other common words, reveals something about our cultural values, conflicts, and double standards.

Comments

[starflow.livejournal.com]

I just saw your picture before I read your post, and thought, "that's in south Georgia!" Those states resemble each other mightily. Plus, I think there's a Pleasant Grove Baptist somewhere between Americus, GA and Albany, GA.

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Heh--on her blog she says it's in SE Alabama, so it's probably pretty close to GA!

Check this sign I saw near Dayton, TN, a few years ago. It was outside a junk-store kind of place, not a church, though. :)

[buscemi.livejournal.com]

When I was in Tennessee, I saw a restaurant with the following sign:

"Lord Protect Our Troops Overseas
Homemade Meatloaf and Vegetables $5.95"

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Yep, that sounds about right. Heck, I've probably eaten there. ;)

[bellastrega.livejournal.com]

this is a beautiful thing.
dawgdawgdawgdawgdawg.
come to my party please?
dawg?

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

Will let you know tomorrow, dawg. :P Sorry to be a spaz.

[theodicy.livejournal.com]

Good dog! Good dog!

[wickedflea.livejournal.com]

*bows*

Wait--can dogs bow?