The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.

Andy Rooney, the sharp-tongued observer of human nature, once offered a reflection wrapped in both humor and truth: “The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.” At first, the saying brings laughter, for it is a playful twisting of words to call a dog a “person.” Yet in that twist lies a piercing judgment of mankind: that in loyalty, kindness, and sincerity, the ordinary dog surpasses the ordinary human. Rooney, who had spent his life observing people’s virtues and failings, pointed to the silent, faithful creature at our side as a model of how humans ought to live.

The origin of this quote rests in Rooney’s gift for blending wit with wisdom. Known for his essays and commentaries that stripped human pretense bare, he often revealed our weaknesses by contrasting them with simpler truths. In this saying, he shows how often men and women fail in the basics of decency—honesty, gratitude, faithfulness—while a dog, with no learning or philosophy, excels in them naturally. It is a gentle rebuke, wrapped in laughter, but carrying the weight of moral truth.

To call the dog nicer than the average person is to remind us of the dog’s unshakable loyalty. A dog does not betray, does not envy, does not deceive. It greets friend and master alike with joy, forgives instantly, and remains steadfast even in poverty or hardship. The human heart, by contrast, is too often clouded by greed, jealousy, and ambition. We calculate, we judge, we wound with words, while the dog lives by a simpler creed: love given is love returned. Rooney’s words shine a light on this contrast, praising the beast not to shame mankind, but to awaken it.

History itself confirms this truth. When Odysseus returned to Ithaca after twenty long years, disguised as a beggar, no one recognized him—not his wife, not his servants, not his countrymen. Only his dog, Argos, blind and broken with age, wagged his tail and knew his master. In that moment, Homer teaches us what Rooney later echoed: the dog is steadfast in ways the human heart too often is not. Argos died moments later, as though his final duty was fulfilled, but his loyalty outshone the forgetfulness of men.

So too in modern times, stories abound of dogs who guard the graves of their masters, who travel miles to return to their homes, who refuse food from strangers because they wait for the hand they know. Such devotion humbles us, for it reveals how far humanity has wandered from the simple path of loyalty and kindness. Rooney’s humor cuts deep: if the dog, without speech or reason, can embody these virtues so purely, why should the average person not strive to do the same?

The lesson, then, is not to elevate dogs above mankind, but to see in them a mirror of what we could be if we shed pride, envy, and deceit. The dog’s greatness is in its simplicity: love those who love you, forgive quickly, be joyful in companionship, stay faithful in hardship. These are not impossible virtues, but we, in our complexity, often lose them. The dog reminds us that true nobility is not in power or intellect, but in kindness.

Practically, this means we must strive to imitate the dog’s virtues. Be loyal to your friends, and do not abandon them in trial. Be forgiving, even when wronged. Greet others with warmth, not suspicion. Give love freely, without calculation. Do not let ambition poison your heart, but be content to serve with joy and honesty. If you live thus, you will find yourself greater than the average person, because you have learned from the humble teacher who walks beside you on four legs.

So let Rooney’s words echo in your heart: “The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.” Do not dismiss them as mere jest. Take them as a summons to humility, as a call to rise to the standard set not by kings or sages, but by the simple creature who wags its tail at your side. For if we, with all our reason, cannot at least match the kindness of a dog, then we have not yet learned what it means to be truly human.