Dog, the hell-hound that Hell sends to the Antichrist, represents the idea that good and evil aren’t innate, but learned. The Antichrist is supposed to receive the hell-hound on his 11th birthday to protect him and do his bidding. It’s especially important that the Antichrist name the hell-hound himself, as this will give the dog its purpose. When the hell-hound first arrives on Earth, it takes the form of a huge, terrifying dog who looks like the canine incarnation of evil. But when it finds Adam and listens to him talk about the dog he’d like—a small, scrappy mutt that’s highly intelligent and loyal—the hell-hound changes shape to become exactly the kind of dog Adam wants. And when Adam announces that he’s going to name the hell-hound Dog, an important change takes place: the name Dog begins to change the hell-hound’s very nature, making it less of an evil beast from the underworld and more of a domestic dog, like its namesake. Indeed, after receiving his name, Dog thinks that he’s always wanted to jump up on people—but now, surprisingly, he also wants to wag his tail at them.
Dog’s transformation illustrates how significant a being’s upbringing and external influences are in determining whether or not they become good or evil. It makes no difference that Dog came from Hell explicitly to be evil, when Adam just wants a dog who “[he] can have fun with.” Over the course of the novel, as Dog has more delightful and innocent experiences (like chasing rats and cats) and as he follows Adam everywhere, he gradually abandons everything that first marked him as an evil, dangerous creature. Dog thus represents the idea that everything and everyone has the capacity for good, if only they have the right influences.
Dog (The Hell-Hound) Quotes in Good Omens
“I’ll call him Dog,” said his master, positively. “It saves a lot of trouble, a name like that.”
The hell-hound paused. Deep in its diabolical canine brain it knew that something was wrong, but it was nothing if not obedient and its great sudden love of its master overcame all misgivings. Who was to say what size it should be, anyway?
It trotted down the slope to meet its destiny.
Strange, though. It had always wanted to jump up at people but, now, it realized that against all expectation it wanted to wag its tail at the same time.
This wasn’t, insofar as the hell-hound had any expectations, what he had imagined life would be like in the last days before Armageddon, but despite himself, he was beginning to enjoy it.
[...]
Form shapes nature. There are certain ways of behavior appropriate to small scruffy dogs which are in fact welded into the genes. You can’t just become small-dog-shaped and hope to stay the same person; a certain intrinsic small-dogness begins to permeate your very Being.
He’d already chased a rat. It had been the most enjoyable experience of his life.
“You don’t have to be so lit’ral about everything,” he said. “That’s the trouble these days. Grass materialism. ‘S people like you who go round choppin’ down rain forests and makin’ holes in the ozone layer. There’s a great big hole in the ozone layer ‘cos of grass materialism people like you.”
1111. An the Great Hound sharl coom, and the Two Powers sharl watch in Vane, for it Goeth where is its Master, where they Wot Notte, and he sharl name it, True to Ittes Nature, and Hell sharl flee it.
Dog slunk along with his tail between his legs, whining.
This wasn’t right, he was thinking. Just when I was getting the hang of rats. Just when I’d nearly sorted out that bloody German Shepherd across the road. Now He’s going to end it all and I’ll back with the ole glowin’ eyes and chasin’ lost souls. What’s the sense in that? They don’t fight back, and there’s no taste to ‘em...
“Oh, if that’s all that’s worryin’ you, don’t you worry,” said Adam airily, “’cos I could make you all just do whatever I wanted—”
He stopped, his ears listening in horror to the words his mouth was speaking. The Them were backing away.
[...]
“No,” he said hoarsely. “No. Come back! I command you!”
They froze in mid-dash.
Adam stared.
“No, I dint mean it—” he began. “You’re my friends—”
[...]
Adam opened his mouth and screamed. It was a sound that a merely mortal throat should not have been able to utter [...]
Whatever had been standing in the old quarry before, Adam Young was standing there now. A more knowledgeable Adam Young, but Adam Young nevertheless. Possibly more of Adam Young than there had ever been before.
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, he said. SURELY YOUR VERY EXISTENCE REQUIRES THE ENDING OF THE WORLD. IT IS WRITTEN.
“I dunt see why anyone has to go an’ write things like that,” said Adam calmly. “The world is full of all sorts of brilliant stuff and I haven’t found out all about it yet, so I don’t want anyone messing it about or endin’ it before I’ve had a chance to find out about it. So you can all just go away.”
He couldn’t see why people made such a fuss about people eating their silly old fruit anyway, but life would be a lot less fun if they didn’t. And there never was an apple, in Adam’s opinion, that wasn’t worth the trouble you got into for eating it.