The wolf stopped on the ridge, moonlight sharpening his silhouette, and turned to the dog beside him.
“Cousin,” he asked calmly, “what do you think of people?”
The dog did not answer immediately. His head dropped, his eyes fixed on the dust beneath his paws. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of long nights and unthanked loyalty.
“When they want to humiliate someone,” he said, “they call them a dog.”
The wolf’s ears twitched. “You hurt their children?”
“Never.”
“You betrayed them?”
“No.”
“You guarded their homes, protected their herds, stood watch while they slept?”
“Yes. Always.”
The wolf let out a bitter laugh. “Then tell me—when they want to praise someone, when they speak of courage, wisdom, and freedom—what do they call them?”
The dog’s answer came as a sigh.
“They call them… wolves.”
Silence followed, heavy and uncomfortable.
The wolf shook his head slowly, almost kindly. “Didn’t we tell you, from the beginning, to stay with us?” he said. “I destroyed their herds. I frightened their children. I caused them trouble. And yet, when they want to exalt a person, they compare him to me.”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
“Remember this, cousin: people often honor those who dominate them and despise those who serve them faithfully.”
A Mirror Held Up to Society
This short exchange is not really about animals. It is about us.
Across cultures and history, the dog symbolizes loyalty, service, and protection. Dogs stand guard, obey commands, and sacrifice comfort for duty. Yet the word “dog” is often used as an insult—synonymous with weakness, submission, or worthlessness.
The wolf, on the other hand, is feared. It disrupts, challenges, and refuses to be controlled. And yet, “wolf” is also a compliment. We admire the lone wolf, the alpha, the fearless leader who bends the world rather than adapts to it.
Why?
Why Service Is Taken for Granted
Faithful service is quiet. It does not demand applause. It works in the background, absorbing hardship without protest. Over time, people begin to expect it—and once something is expected, it is rarely celebrated.
Power, however, is loud. Independence looks glamorous. Defiance feels strong. Even when it harms others, it carries an aura of freedom that people secretly envy.
So the one who serves is seen as small.
The one who resists is seen as great.
The Tragic Irony
The dog protected people from the wolf.
The wolf threatened their peace.
Yet admiration flows toward the threat, not the protector.
This is the paradox the wolf cannot understand—and the dog has lived with all his life.
A Question for the Reader
Are you living like the dog—faithful, committed, quietly doing what is right, yet feeling unseen?
Or like the wolf—feared, admired, free, but destructive?
And more importantly: when you admire others, are you praising their character—or just their power?
Sometimes the world’s applause says more about the world than about those it claps for.