Day 92

"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself."  

Josh Billings

I happen to be a dog person. I always have been. And if you have also known the true love and companionship of a dog, then count yourself blessed. I know they're not for everyone...but when its right, its right.

It goes all the way back to when I was in preschool. My mom picked me up from "Just Kids" in our old brown mini-van. I remember I was wearing my favorite baby-blue and lace dress and I was in a wretched mood. I had gotten into an argument with my best friend Alysha. I don't remember specifics, but I know it had something to do with a swing on the playground....so...it was probably pretty serious business. I remember being so upset, but as my mom strapped me in to the car she said "Don't worry, baby. It'll all be better when we get home." Uh...yeah right, mom! But she was right. When we walked in the door, there he was. A tiny little Scottish Terrier puppy sitting right smack-dab in the middle of the living room floor on a fluffy brown dog bed. We named him Laddie, but due to his short little legs, dragging belly, and affinity for digging in the mud and covering his snout with dirt...we came to call him "Pig." That's what he would answer to...but  he still knew if he ever heard the name Laddie that he was in big trouble. Pig and I were inseparable. He would always greet me when I got home, sit at my feet under the table, snuggle on the couch, and always knew when I was upset. I don't know how they do it, but like most dogs, any time I was sad, he just came up, laid in my lap, and covered me with kisses. He definitely had an attitude and always managed to get out of the gate and run away...but he always came back. He knew where home was, knew where love was (or maybe it was just food)...but he always came back. Until the day he didn't. He had taught me so many lessons....the joy of running as fast as you can, jumping, chasing, and playing with complete abandon. He taught me to never mess with a sleeping dog (that one took 2 trips to the hospital and a scar under my chin to sink in). He taught me unconditional love. He taught me responsibility. And on that day he didn't come home...he taught me my first real lesson of loss. My little Pig had been hit by a car on MacDuffy Rd. I was 14. And it hurt like hell. 

I've had other dogs since Pig. We had Maggie, a exceptional black lab, and my brother's dog Lincoln, a beast of a Rottweiler and a brilliant food caper. He had managed to eat a bag of wheat bagels, loads of Christmas stocking candy, and even devoured 3 pounds of frozen ground turkey that my mom had once left defrosting on the counter. Since we knew he could reach the counter, we started leaving things on top of the fridge. One day Brian brought home a chocolate cake that someone had made for his birthday. It had a balloon tied to it. For 3 days, Lincoln watched patiently as the balloon lost its helium and floated closer to the ground....until he could reach it. He used the balloon and attached string to pull the cake down off the fridge and ate it. He ate the entire chocolate cake. Brilliant dog. It was at this point we know that this dog's stomach was indestructible. Brian always said that when he did things like that, he was simply saying "Check Mate!"

Brian and Lincoln were the best of friends. They did everything together. My brother even maxed out his credit card paying for surgeries to save Lincoln's life once....I know it may sound silly, but....that's just what you do when you love someone that much. Lincoln went on to live a very long time. He even outlived my brother. And that's when I realized just how much a dog can love you back. I don't know if Lincoln ever really grasped that Brian wasn't coming home again...but he looked for him. Waited at the door, searched the house, looking for his master, his best friend. He could feel our sadness and I could absolutely feel his. 

Now, my parents have another black lab named Holly. She lives to chase the ball and is madly in love with my father and mother, sleeping at their feet each and every night. I'm glad they have her there with them. Being so far away, I am so glad to know that they have another baby girl snuggling with them since I can't.   

And me? Well....out here in LA I have a very special...very special dog to share my life with. His name is Brando and he is the handsome beast that greeted you at the top of this post. If you know Brando, then you know pure energy. I've always been blessed with well behaved dogs. They answer to commands, come when you call, and are generally very chill. Brando was an absolute change of pace. He is wild. Loud. Headstrong. And many of my friends can't stand to be around him. They just can't handle his energy. He barks at everything that moves, destroys furniture, digs up the yard, the list goes on and on. He drives my roommates and I crazy on a daily basis...but if you asked anyone of them, we wouldn't trade him for the world. Because what all of our friends don't see...is the other side of the B-do. They don't see how each and every night, he does everything he can to just be close to his humans. He'll climb right up and plop into your lap, curl up in the crook of your legs, or even drape himself around your neck letting his head rest right on your shoulder. He'll accompany me out to the garage at night to switch the laundry because I don't like to go in the dark by myself. And just like so many dogs before him, he always knows when I'm upset and will lie quietly with me or give my cheek a reassuring lick. 

Day 92: I am grateful for my dog, and for all the pets that have graced my life.  I am grateful for their unconditional love, the memories of these pups that that tie me to people and places, and the silent companionship that knows no words, only love. I am grateful for the lessons they have taught me.....

 
To always greet the ones you love when they come home. 

To find joy in the simple things.
Love unconditionally. 

To play outside everyday, to take in the sun and the air and all the beauty this world offers.
And that sometimes, when a friend is hurting, all you need to do is sit quietly by them.