“I am a dog called Johannes and I have seen you. I have seen you in this park, my home. If you have come to this park, my vast green and windblown park by the sea, I have seen you. I have seen everyone who has been here, the walkers and runners and bikers and horse-riders and the Bison-seekers and the picnickers and the archers in their cloaks. When you have come here you have come to my home, where I am the Eyes.”
When the narrator calls himself a dog, it is not intended as metaphor. The book is literally narrated by a canine. That much is obvious from the text of this quote but a wealth of information is offered in the context and subtext. Note the capitalization of Bison. This is a clue as to their status in the eyes of the dog. They are like wise elders in the park who know seemingly all there is to know. The final word of the last line serves to make the somewhat unclear meaning of the title come into focus. Of perhaps most importance, however, is the depth of meaning behind the dog’s repeated claim to possessorship of the park. It is the wild. It is his home. Humans are mere guests but they are not always welcome guests who obey the rules of the house.
“The building had been a mystery to us all, and this had caused some concern with the Bison. For weeks—months?—I ran by every day, checking, sniffing, ascertaining, contemplating and mulling, and every evening I would go to the Bison to report on what was happening, and every evening I knew nothing more. The building was going up fast, and there were hundreds of humans going in and out, clattering and sawing and knocking and yelling, and yet I couldn’t get any more clarity on just what the building was for.”
A lot is going on in this quote. The conflict that is introduced into the story is, of course, the building which is representative of human encroachment onto nature. The dog’s reference to running at will to do his job as the Eyes is a recurring motif in which the very act of running represents freedom from human interference. Johannes is a creature that sniffs for information and is also capable of ascertainment and contemplation. This information hints at the type of anthropomorphism at work in the book. Animals are able to talk to each other and live organized lives with tasks which must be carried out. Even so, they are not cartoon animals capable of understanding humans much less simply just talking to them.
“Just as Angus had said, there were new rectangles, not like the maps and signs all over the park. These were rectangular, like normal signs, and they were colored, but they were different from signs. Some seem to be pictures and rocks and boulders, but of a size that was clearly too big and simply not right. Some were pictures of streams that were far too wide and long also the wrong color completely To me, this was confusing. I got closer.”
Angus is a raccoon who is reporting back to the Bison about new developments in the building which was going up fast. The colorful rectangles that look like signs but aren’t are actually paintings. The dog’s critique of them is not that of an art critic but rather of someone who sees things as they are. The paintings look wrong to him because they are impressions filtered through human perspective. This excerpt serves to subtly cement how humans are intrusions onto the land that Johannes calls his home. Nevertheless, he grows fascinated by the artwork in much the same way as a human might. He may not quite understand it and even be confused about it, but there is some intrinsic value that, despite being not right, draws him inward. Eventually, this fascination will prove to be just as dangerous to him as the Bison suspected it would be. This is yet another characterization of the impassible chasm existing between humans and the natural world.
