What is Honour? I ask the Owner.
What does the Moral Dog think Honour is? Asks the Owner.
The Moral Dog sense a Loaded Question. It is an Indication of Respect, I say. Kant was the first major Western philosopher to put respect for Persons, including Oneself as a Person, at the centre of Moral Theory, I say, and although I think Kant was a Bit of a Killjoy and Did not have much Time for Dogs, I say…
Nor Women, says the Owner.
Nor Women, I say, I think Kant had the right idea, I say. Allowing for his Limitations, I say. And Aristotle took such Virtues to be central to a well-lived life, I say. Historically, I say, Honour has been a concept reserved for Humankind, I say. Sophocles said he would prefer even to fail with honour than win by cheating, I say. Socrates said the greatest way to live with Honour in this World is to Be what we Pretend to Be, I say.
Exactly, says the Owner. Honour should mean Something, says the Owner, getting out her Pencil.
That is True, I say. Although In Recent Years, I say, Many People have argued that Moral Respect ought also to be extended to Things other than Persons, I say, such as Nonhuman Living Things, I say. Jeremy the Beagle is Very Honourable, I say. He lives on Pondwater and Regards even his Favourite Leaf as Only On Loan, I say.
Exactly, says the Owner, chewing her Pencil until the End Falls Off, Exactly.
Is this about the Prime Minister? I ask.
How did the Moral Dog Guess? Asks the Owner.
Call it a Hunch, I say. Although the Fact that you have Drawn a Moustache on him and Stuck it to the Fridge is a bit of a Giveaway, I say. Is this to do with Honour? I say.
The Prime Minister has Determined who the Country should Honour Today, says the Owner. He has chosen the son of a Russian KGB agent turned Oligarch who owns Two Newspapers in England and a Party Castle in Italy, a Cricketer who supported Brexit, a former IRA Apologist, his Own Brother and a Varied group of Donors to his Own Party, says the Owner. It is a Travesty, says the Owner. He might as well have Chosen the Moral Dog, says the Owner. We might as well be back in the days of Pocket Boroughs, says the Owner, when the British Political System was known as ‘Old Corruption’, says the Owner, and the Rich and the Privileged treated the State as their Private Property, says the Owner, and Offices of State were Purchased by Insiders Cashing in on their Behind-the-Scenes old Boys Club says the Owner. I am Disgusted, says the Owner.
So am I, I say. Disgusted I say.
Thankyou, says the Owner. I am so Glad the Moral Dog Understands about Honour, says the Owner. Who would want the Honour of Such a Man, says the Owner. A Moustache is Not Good Enough for Him, says the Owner.
Although, I say.
Yes? Says the Owner drawing Hideous Spectacles on the Prime Minister.
When you say He Might as Well have Appointed the Moral Dog, I say, since you Mention It, I say, I could make a Small Donation, I say. Squeaky Cat has some Spare Fluff, I say. I have established a Personal Relationship with the Prime Ministers Dog on Twitter, I say. And I have an Excellent Line of Adoring Dog Expressions, I say. There is something to be said for Honour, I say, when One is Likely to Receive It, I say.
It sounds as if the Moral Dog has an Excellent Chance of Making the Next Honours List. says the Owner.
Excellent, I say.
The Moral Dog is So Shallow, says the Owner.
You would think she would be Pleased for me.
Hergest the Hound
I am a dog of many thoughts.