Cocker Spaniel

The cocker spaniel is probably the most delighted dog in existence. Its tail runs at full throttle from dawn to night and works like a built-in mood barometer: the better things are, the faster it spins — and with a cocker things are good almost always. You greet it in the morning? It wags. You pick up the leash? It wags so hard that the entire back half of its body joins in. You say “let's go”? It practically lifts off the ground. This is a dog that treats every little thing as a small celebration — and somehow it's hard, around it, not to catch the same attitude.

This inexhaustible joy has, moreover, a solid pedigree. The cocker belongs to the spaniels — one of the oldest families of dogs in England, whose name still recalls the “Spanish dogs” of centuries past — and its specialty has always been the thicket: rummaging where no other dog wanted or was able to squeeze in, among the bushes, ferns, and tall grass. Even those famous ears aren't merely ornament — long and drooping, they supposedly helped sweep scents straight toward its excellent nose, like two velvet curtains around a stage. And then the cocker made a career no dog of the undergrowth had dreamed of: it's a cocker spaniel that Lady is, from “Lady and the Tramp” — the heroine of the most famous canine date in the history of cinema, the one with the spaghetti. A dog created to rummage in bushes became an icon of cinematic romance. And truth be told, it plays both these roles to this day — at the same time.

One walk, in fact, is enough to see it. A calm stroll can turn into a research expedition through every bush and clump of grass — the cocker enters the undergrowth with the enthusiasm of a mushroom-picker at the height of the season, while you serve as the patient assistant at the other end of the leash. To complete the set come those long, silky ears of its — absolutely enchanting and absolutely impractical. They can sweep the floor, land in the water bowl, and emerge from it in a new, “broth-flavored” edition. It's a beauty that — as will soon become clear — requires a bit of maintenance.

Because for all this energy the cocker has an exceptionally soft and tender soul. It's deeply attached to its people and really doesn't cope well with rough treatment — a harsh word can extinguish that blissful joy of its in a second, and the look it throws you then breaks the heart more effectively than many a film. Fortunately, it forgives as quickly as it grows sad. This is a dog that doesn't want to rule over you or guard you — it simply wants to be close, to share the day with you, and every so often to make sure everything between you is all right. And it's precisely this tenderness that makes it so easy to love — and makes one want so much to protect it.

And it's worth protecting it at the bowl too — more than it seems, because with a cocker the bowl also works… on behalf of the ears. First: it's an active dog but also a sincere glutton, so if the exercise dwindles and the treats don't, the figure will round out faster than you expect. Second: a good part of the chronic ear troubles in this breed originates in food allergies — the most common culprits being beef, chicken, dairy, eggs, or wheat.

The ears, in fact, deserve a separate paragraph with a cocker, because they're its hallmark and at the same time its most frequent ailment.

Because the cocker spaniel doesn't give love in measured doses or in a studied way. It gives it all at once, right away, with the sweep of that endless tail — and asks in return only that you return at least part of that joy and treat it gently.

Take care of its figure, those troublesome ears, and its soft heart, and you'll get a companion around whom a bad day is genuinely hard to come by. Because the cocker long ago made one simple decision — that being close to you is the best thing under the sun — and over the next dozen or more years it has no intention of changing its mind in the slightest.