Amidst the multitude of metaphors, symbols, and allegories found in the songs of today, a particularly poignant one has arisen: the dog. Multiple indie darlings have utilised man’s best friend as a symbol for victimhood. In Soccer Mommy’s “Your Dog,” the artist wishes to distance herself from a partner who treats her as a pet and who only offers affection as a means of luring her to stay with them. In “Moon Song,” Phoebe Bridgers awaits her love “like a dog with a bird at your door,” displaying the detrimental desires love can bring out as she endures the cold obediently. Even when not inhabiting the form of a dog, artists use the dog to display unwavering loyalty to someone who doesn’t love them. For example, Alex G allows his lover in the song “Sarah” to take the role of a dog as he tugs her along the leash of love despite being unable to be “what she wants.” A thread of commonality can thus be seen, in which each of these singers sees the role of a metaphorical dog as that of a victim. They are the creatures standing by dutifully, hopeful for the last remnants of affection to be offered as a treat. Through this relation, the dog is placed beneath the man and is used as a metaphor to describe weakness.
By resigning herself to bet on those “losing dogs,” Mitski establishes the dog as the one with power, the beast capable of offering her the ultimate payout or persisting solitude.
This idea of the dutiful canine is what singer-songwriter Mitski subverts. For her, the dog does not merely have to embody a sense of victimhood; rather, her lyricism allows the dog metaphor to be used in different capacities. In “I Bet On Losing Dogs,” seen in countless TikTok edits, Mitski uses the metaphor of the dog to symbolise the hopeless relationships that she continuously places her faith in. By resigning herself to bet on those “losing dogs,” Mitski establishes the dog as the one with power, the beast capable of offering her the ultimate payout or persisting solitude. Rather than the obedient pet, Mitski describes how she will “bet on losing dogs” and “pay for my place by the ring.” Through the imagery of dog racing, the dog is placed as the recipient of the attention, not the human. Mitski has persisted with this subversion of the trope in her recent work, The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We. Featured in this album is the song “I’m Your Man,” which I believe to be the best utilisation of the dog metaphor.
While you may be the servile dog one day, the very next you can be the hound of judgement.
Rather than maintain one defined role for the dog, in “I’m Your Man,” Mitski toys with the role it’s expected to play, switching between victim and perpetrator. Mitski opens the song by saying, “You’re an angel, I’m a dog.” Within the first stanza, Mitski establishes a hierarchy, placing her lover as the heavenly, righteous angel while classifying herself as the mere mutt. However, by stating “Or you’re a dog, and I’m your man,” she immediately subverts this hierarchy in the second stanza. In a mere two stanzas, Mitski creates, destroys, and rebuilds an ever-changing ranking between dog, man, and angel. In the first stanza, the dog is beneath the angel, symbolising the unimpressive and mundane, while in the second, it’s the subservient, kind, yet mistreated animal. Later on, Mitski once again evokes the heavenly and divine by stating, “You believe me like a God/I destroy you I am,” arguing religious ideals can be a destructive force, which corrupts the notion presented in the first stanza of the perfect angel. Mitski eventually reconciles with the power of the dog, as she proclaims to “meet judgement by the hounds,” imbuing a power within the beast that was previously unseen. Ultimately, the song ends with a final distortion of the hierarchy, as Mitski sings, “You believe me like a God/I’ll betray you like a man.” By destabilising this hierarchy, Mitski suggests that regardless of the role you play in the relationship, there is always the capacity to harm. While you may be the servile dog one day, the very next you can be the hound of judgement.
Mitski’s ability to shift between these roles, testifying to their respective strengths and flaws, is a sign of what makes both this song and her discography so critically revered. Mitski’s lyricism is not stunted by the enduring shape of metaphors, such as the subservient canine. Instead, she reshapes them, blurring the lines to create masterfully crafted emotional tones in her work. I believe the dog metaphor is a particularly powerful idea in works about love, and Mitski’s capacity to balance and transform it beyond its prior use highlights her unmatched songwriting skill. “I’m Your Man” stands as a remarkable piece marked by its positionality and the haunting presence it projects.
