For the Love of a Dog...

©David J. Arthur, April 1, 2011 In the course of seven months, my wife and I lost four cherished dogs. Granted, two of them were older, and the other two well beyond middle age. But still, in one quite moment the true impact of the loss recently came to haunt me, and it led me to wonder on the whole nature of love. The day before, an internet friend mourned the passing of her Poodle on a discussion list. I knew from her stories how precious the pup was to her, and for a moment a tear welled in my own eye. It wasn’t that I knew either dog or owner outside of the e-mail. None-the-less, I shared her loss in that way only one who has loved a dog can know. Even earlier that day, I came across the movie Marley and Me. But I brushed past it quickly, as I had seen it before, and couldn’t bring myself to watch the unfolding of an old dog’s life. Again, though not my own, it still reminded me of those I had lost. Being a dog breeder, exhibitor, judge, trainer, and all of the other elements of our sport, one would think such trivial things wouldn’t matter much. With as many dogs as I’ve known, what are the few I let go of over time? And yet, there I sat, recalling with pathos, the wonderment of simply having known such noble companions. Granted, in terms of their worldly accomplishments, a few of them were magnificent and the others were more common. But it wasn’t for those outward traits that I found them so endearing. I loved each completely, and all had their place and time in my life. Yet sadly, all were gone too soon. What made them so incredible? They are but mere animals aren’t they? Even the question seems somewhat ridiculous. Yet for some strange reason, we simply can’t seem to sever our own lives from theirs. I guess the answer is that we made them to be this way. Genetics are powerful, and over eons, our kind selected from theirs the best, brightest, and most attentive. We drew out the characteristics we valued, and from an ancient symbiosis, true friendship was forged. Each in our kind, and each for our own need, we hewed a place in one another’s hearts; a place that only the other could fill. From youth, man and dog sought to bemuse, befriend, succor, safeguard, and at times even to playfully torment each other for the sake of mutual gratification. They give of themselves as freely as blessings from angels, though we sometimes note it with mere passing interest; that is, until the day of our parting. When the bonds of life are slipped, we are left empty and pondering the true impact of love. While art and religion speak of it, from the erotic to the familial, in all ways the most prized is that which is unconditional. Dogs know no other way. From the selfless acts of protection to the wonders performed in service, what they bring to us we are incapable to define. Canids seem near telepathic, and more than once I have come away from an experience awed by their intuition. Do I believe they’re psychic? No, I do not. Instead, I believe they are far more than that. They are observers of the obvious, and they have spent so much time attending to our every need, that they can see, smell, hear, feel, and taste our emotions. A momentary glance, the break of a smile, a raised pitch as you bid them good day, and in an instant, they know everything, and your heart is revealed. Thus, from their first breath, to that last lingering sigh into eternity, they weave a pattern of affection like no other creature could muster. And we adore them with abandon, yet all of the time knowing that in a seeming moment they’ll be gone, “Going the way of all the Earth.” Oh I could tell you stories – wonderful stories – of all of the things each of mine had done. I smile at the infuriating mischief they caused, and sigh over the times they shared their tenderness. There’s the perfume of puppy breath or fragrance of swamp dampened fur, and no less stirring was a rough pad on my cheek for attention. And always there was humor, such as the times a cold nose made stepping from the shower a rather awkward entanglement. Wet kisses to wake me, TV amongst the “lap pillows”, or coming through the entryway to a wagged greeting; those are the everyday things that made life so wonderful. It’s not as if I’ve lost them completely. Their legacy continues through those who remain. Regardless, I ache for the ones who are gone. My God how beautiful they were in their prime; and in the evening silence I’m oft reminded of how much I miss their clamors. The truth be told, they really were something more than just animals. Granted, they’re not spawned in kind as human, but they may as well be. Bonded by the heart, our love was no less enduring. And as each one’s tenure on earth completed, a part of my own heart journeyed with them across that proverbial bridge. Godspeed I pray thee well my little ones, until such time I shall come to greet thee. I know all too well that these dolorous moments will subside. And over time, this ache will fade, balanced by the joy of those who remain. Hard as it is to say goodbye, all-in-all, just having them with me was worth it. But isn’t that what love is all about? I surely believe so!