Scratch a dog and you'll find a permanent job.

Hear the playful yet piercing words of Franklin P. Jones: “Scratch a dog and you'll find a permanent job.” At first, these words stir laughter, for they describe with wit the endless delight of the dog, who, once given a taste of affection, will demand it forever. Yet beneath the humor lies a truth far deeper: that love, once awakened, creates not a momentary duty but a lifelong bond. To give affection is to invite loyalty, and with loyalty comes responsibility that endures.

The ancients understood this law of bonds. When a covenant was made between lord and vassal, between guest and host, between warrior and comrade, it was not to be broken lightly. To give bread was to bind yourself to another’s well-being. To share salt was to create an unbreakable trust. In like manner, to scratch a dog—to show affection to the creature who trusts so easily—is to awaken devotion that does not end. It is a permanent job because the dog does not forget, does not withhold, does not waver. Once claimed by love, it is yours forever.

Consider the story of Hachikō, the faithful Akita of Japan. Each day he accompanied his master to the train station and waited for his return. When the master died unexpectedly at work, Hachikō continued to wait, day after day, year after year, for nearly a decade. The people marveled at his devotion, and they came to feed and care for him, but his gaze remained fixed on the station doors. Here is the perfect image of Jones’s wisdom: once touched by loyalty, the bond became eternal. Hachikō had found his “permanent job,” and he fulfilled it with unwavering faith.

And is this not also true in the lives of men? To show kindness, to extend affection, to offer help—these things bind us not just for an instant, but often for a lifetime. A friend who tastes your loyalty will return to you again and again. A child who feels your encouragement will look to you for guidance always. Even strangers, once lifted by your compassion, may carry your kindness with them forever. The “permanent job” is the responsibility created by love and loyalty; once given, it cannot be withdrawn without cost.

Jones’s jest is therefore both humorous and serious. It makes us laugh at the dog who never stops nudging for another scratch, but it also reminds us that love demands constancy. To stir affection is easy, but to sustain it requires patience, humility, and endurance. The permanent job is not a burden, but a calling: to honor the loyalty that affection awakens, whether in beasts or in men.

The lesson, then, is twofold. First, do not give affection lightly. When you scratch the dog, when you show kindness to the soul before you, understand that you awaken something that endures. Second, do not despise the permanence of that duty. For though it requires time and energy, it also returns to you in joy, gratitude, and devotion beyond measure. The dog, once scratched, will never leave your side; the human heart, once loved, will never forget.

So let these words of Franklin P. Jones echo beyond jest: “Scratch a dog and you’ll find a permanent job.” Let them remind you that love, whether offered to animals or to people, creates bonds that last beyond the moment. Do not resent this permanence—embrace it. For in such enduring loyalty lies the true measure of life: not in fleeting glories, but in the steadfast devotion of those who remain at your side, nudging you always toward love.