When I lived in Chattanooga, some people there were determined to make quality music one of the highlights of being an area resident. As soon as the weather warmed, any excuse to put a few guitars and a beer tent together was reason enough to erect a stage and block off the streets.

My favorite event was a weekly concert downtown on summer Friday nights. Amid the traffic and tall buildings you could relax to former headliners and hope the breeze would cool things off a little.

As word spread, the crowds swelled until it was hard to get close to the stage. The event became a happening. People brought their dogs and met friends there. The music was secondary to seeing and being seen, the start to a relaxing weekend.

At the end of the block, a large fountain cooled the immediate surroundings considerably. Thanks to a really good sound system, the music drifted intact to that spot, filtering out the cigar smoke and inane conversation that clogged the area closer to the stage. I spent lots of time there.

One particular night I noticed a lovely upscale couple. They were dressed as if a fancy party was in the immediate future or legal proceedings were in the immediate past. Except the couple brought their dogs. I assume if you go by the house to get the dogs, you can take time to change into something more comfortable. But that's just me.

The couple wandered around the periphery of the crowd with these two matching animals. Black, beautiful, and stately, the dogs were canine replicas of the people holding the other end of the leashes. Perfectly matched labs, larger than normal, the two dogs behaved like they just graduated from finishing school.

The following week, the lady showed up with both dogs but no husband. It appeared she was waiting for him to arrive. During the band's second set, her dogs found something irritating about a German Shepherd across the walkway. Somebody must have called somebody's mama another name for female dog. The two labs bolted in unison, determined to deal with such obvious disrespectin'.

Iditarod veterans would have marveled at the synchronized pulling power of the pair. The whole thing was impressive, except to the woman who was being dragged along the concrete like a snow sled.

The lady held both leashes until several other folks interceded and gained control of the dogs. Order was restored, and the focus returned to the band. The woman sat meekly on a bench, shaken and nearly in shock, until her husband showed up. They left immediately.

I thought of this incident after reading recently of the chimp in Connecticut attacking people it knew after acting like a human for a long time. We homo sapiens keep trying to make our domestic animals more human- like and keep extending the definition to include animals not far removed from the brutal realities of nature. Then we act surprised when they behave as they are programmed to.

We aren't separated enough from our primal tendencies to guarantee good behavior. How can we expect the rest of the animals to be civilized?