Tony Soprano needs a dog?

Dear Dog Lady,

I am hooked on “The Sopranos,” that HBO series about the mob. While I’m not completely happy with the creative direction of the drama during the last season, I was totally stunned when Tony whacked Ralphie with his bare hands, banging his head on the tile floor until Ralphie whined no more. Although Tony had a grudge against Ralphie, I guess Ralphie setting the fire that killed Tony’s beloved racehorse, Pie-O-My, tipped him over the homicidal edge.

Tony Soprano is one complicated character. The guy kills people and cheats on his wife but he wouldn’t hurt a flea. He seems to have a weakness for animals. Remember the very first episode of the series when he was enchanted by the ducks nesting in his swimming pool? Then, he goes mushy for Pie-Oh-My, sitting vigil in the horse’s stall when it was sick. He even cozied up to the goat that lived at the stable.

Dog Lady, don’t you think Tony needs a dog? He doesn’t need a girlfriend (they’re all cuckoo anyway) and he doesn’t need a shrink (Dr. Melfi had little to do during the fourth season). He sure could use some unconditional canine affection.

Stuart, Hoboken, N.J.

Stuart, you are astute. Only a perceptive TV viewer would figure out that Tony Soprano requires a furry critter to love -- and love him back. Too bad Dr. Melfi, who must be charging our don at least $150 an hour, hasn’t suggested it.

He’s definitely not a cat person because cats, while affectionate in their own way and time, are too inscrutable and mysterious. Tony doesn’t deal well with subterranean signals.

OK, let’s think of him as a dog person. Dog Lady leaps in with the suggestion that Tony needs a big, bounding, slobbering Golden Retriever in his life. The writers of the “The Sopranos” -- and what a talented bunch they are regardless of uneven episodes this year -- should definitely write a dog for Tony into the script. It’s a perfect storyline.

Tony is obsessed with loyalty this season. That’s why he’s cutting his heroin addict nephew Christopher in on a bigger piece of the action. Christopher is blood kin as opposed to fake omerta family and, alas, all Tony’s lieutenants appear to be turning on him.

What animal is more loyal than a dog?

And Tony has a thing about unconditional trust. He told Christopher to come over to Ralphie’s with nothing but a pair of rubber gloves. He didn’t explain why nor did he warn Christopher they’d be spending an evening hacking up a corpse in the bathtub. When Christopher arrived, he was fairly stunned to realize the task ahead.

Granted, a dog can’t wield a meat cleaver, but a dog could trustingly traipse after Tony and not ask any impertinent questions.

A dog in the house could also ease Tony’s relations with wife Carmela, since they’d have something to distract them. And maybe, just maybe, a dog would put a smile on the face of sourpuss son, A.J.

Dogs bring life. They can’t help it. Even at the Bada Bing strip joint, the dingy den of inequity, there might be a little more lightness around the place if Tony’s pet hung out there -- more lap doggying, less lap dancing.

“The Sopranos’’ had a resident dog until Christopher smothered fiancé Adrianna’s Maltese, Cosette. He crushed the dog while he was in a heroin haze. He plunked himself down on the sofa and sat on Cosette.

During an intervention in one of the last episodes of the season – when family members confront Christopher about his drug problem -- Tony learns Christopher killed Cosette. He is outraged and cannot believe Christopher didn’t notice the dog on the couch. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose a pet,’’ Tony yelled (another classic ironic "Sopranos" line).

Adrianna was far more forgiving about the petricide. Cosette was the child she couldn’t have – the one creature who would have happily followed her into the witness protection program. Still, Adrianna bravely brought Christopher to rehab and kissed him goodbye.

Tony’s big, bounding, slobbering dog would be the canine antidote to the crushed Cosette. The Don should get a male dog and call him Dats Amore -- an animal alter ego as outwardly loving, happy and optimistic as Tony is inwardly tortured, deceptive and dark.

Oh, I can hear the hoots already. Those savvy, elitist writers of “The Sopranos” might react to this simple suggestion with a dismissive snort: “Fuhgeddaboutit, Dog Lady, we’re producing the best show on television. We squish dogs. We don’t do ‘Lassie.’”

True. Tony is not Timmy. But, considering the crowd he hangs with, the Mob boss could easily get stuck at the bottom of a well.

Posted by Dog Lady at February 16, 2003 12:00 PM