Ode to a Dog

It was said once that a dog's lives were too short, and that that was really their only fault. What other creature would a human so willingly take in as a part of her family, knowing at the beginning of the relationship that the other party would be the first to die? What kind of masochists would we be to continue to seek love from other humans, if the relationship were guaranteed to end without chance of reconciliation before we were ready for it to? While certainly there are relationships that come to an end before our lives are over, none of them is so perfect as the bond between a dog and his master.

I've heard people say their dogs are almost human. Having known and loved many dogs, I find this to be not only vastly untrue, but also an incredible insult on all the canine race. Dogs never lie. They don't judge people based on their looks or style of dress. I've never seen a dog break a promise or spread vicious rumors about another being. Dogs don't share your secrets or let you down. They are much better judges of character than most people, and love without the conditions humans seem to always place on the love they have for one another. The average dog is absolutely much nicer than the average person.

Dogs have no political aspirations. They have no real ambitions, no desire for vengeance, no self-interest. The dog's only real fear is of displeasing a loving master. In return for belly rubs and pats on the head; perhaps the occassional scrap from the table, a dog will bring you joy, comfort you during times of sorrow, and stand by your side faithfully.

A well loved dog is able to sense his master's feelings, and will soothe an angry heart or cheer a sad one with nothing more than the nuzzle of a head or the wag of a tail. A dog's tail can say in minutes what most people's tongues cannot say in hours. He can sense joy, too, and as joy's infectious, he'll revel in that emotion. No friend in this world is better at dividing our sorrows and multiplying our joys as a dog.

There's a difference between a person who is kind to dogs and one who loves them, and if we can't tell the difference, a dog surely can. I currently have two dogs- one who came with a man and has now made himself a part of our hearts, and one who is ostensibly mine- although now she belongs more to my boy than to me, by her choosing; though I've loved many. It's said that an old man misses many dogs. I'd have to amend that to say a lucky old man misses many dogs.
Yesterday I held another dog, an older, smaller one, in my arms as he died. Eddie was my mother's dog, and I was an adolescent when she brought the tiny ball of fluff home. For the first several years of his life, my mother took him everywhere with her. He was never leash trained, but wouldn't go more than two steps from her feet. 18 years later, he knew her schedule and still waited faithfully for her return from work, impatiently sitting at the top of the steps, although he couldn't see her drive up any longer, he simply knew she would be. He'd still follow two steps behind her as she went about her business, and was always happy to know she was near.

As I soothed his sick old body and the doctor administered the drugs that would make him sleep and then stop his heart, I realized that perhaps we don't really own dogs after all, but instead rent them. We should just be grateful when we're given a long lease. It isn't hard to bear their deaths just because we're losing our dearest friends, but also because they're carrying away with them so many years of our own lives.

The dog is the only animal who loves another breed better than his own. Man. How lucky for us, really, to be so loved, without judgement and unconditionally. I think for me, they're sort of the role model for being alive. A dog is your friend, your partner, your companion, your defender. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, until the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.