Bantay

Bantay, in Tagalog meaning “guard” or a “guardian”. As a child, I found it humorous that it seems like everyone who owned a dog named him Bantay. It’s almost like a long-running inside joke in the country, where you hear “Bantay, sit!” and he will do just that. The joke was, no matter what, the faithful companion will follow his owner’s command. Without or without “proper” dog training. Because that’s who exactly Bantay was, an obedient dog.

Dogs, for as long as recorded history, are domesticated as companions for humans who in turn, provided unconditional love for these creatures. The dogs provided muscle, pulling sleds through the blistering snow, intimidation to potential evil-doers, and the comfort of knowing that he will alert you of any danger while you sleep at night. There was more to these dogs, however. As much as they are capable of defending, they provide warmth through their loyalty and the memories they create with their humans. Their humans only hope that they have made the same impact in their lives, that are unfortunately never long enough.

The years they do share with us are full of mischief, car rides, and laughter. Little do they know, they play such a wonderful role in the course of a person’s life, especially when they grew up together.

Countless of movies, literature, and social media posts are being made to showcase how great Skipper, the Great Dane is or how well Ryan, the bulldog, can ride around in a skateboard his father got him for his first birthday.

However, the dog that stands out to me the most is the one named “Bantay”. There’s no specific dog, as all dogs in Tagalog movies and shows were named “Bantay”. And they all have the similar stories. They were strays, often found covered in dirt, trying to survive the chaos of the streets filled with people that sold food outdoors, traveled three hours to go to work, all weary from the worsening pollution. There was always one stranger though, that noticed Bantay. This stranger, reluctant at first, would feed him scraps, slowly gaining his trust. Although Bantay would never completely trust his stranger, he would trust him just enough to pick him out from the crowd. Going against his nature, Bantay will eventually trust and finally love this stranger.

The concept of “love” is so elusive that even we are still trying to grasp the complexities of it. But Bantay does not see it this way. Love is straightforward to creatures like him. Love is pure and unchanging.

Bantay would not show this love in any grandiose way we humans do, but he will do this by what is name exactly says. He will guard. He will make sure that no one he does not trust gets the chance to be near you. He will make sure that his humans are comfortable and most importantly, secure. Does he understand the concept of “secure”? Most, definitely not, but he understands he loves.

Growing up, I have always dreamt of having a dog named Bantay. I could not decide on what color or what breed he would be, but I knew that I wanted him to be my friend and my guardian. I wanted him to understand the language I spoke. No, I did not want him to understand only Tagalog. I want him to understand the language of love that is unique to me and him.

I could not picture a specific breed, but I feel like I would not know what breed I decided he would be, and what I would tell people when they ask, until after the car ride home from the adoption center. I only know for certain what his name would be.