My dog.

He longs for his walk, lives for his biscuit, purrs while being cuddled, seeks back massages, and loves his din-dins at the appointed hour.

That’s it.  That is how he defines a successful life.

He does not have a degree or a formal job (his informal job is being our security guard and loving companion but shhh… don’t tell him that).

When he waits for me to tuck him into bed at night, he just looks at me with those big brown eyes.

To us busy humans, he doesn’t seem to do much at all.

But he speaks volumes to me about my own life by the way he lives his own.

He shows me that by taking each moment as it comes, I can find true peace.

He tells me by his actions that I can trust God to look after me.

He forgives unconditionally.

He sees every opportunity for play and movement.  Even when his owner does not feel like it.

He takes time to indulge in the sounds and smells of life.

If I am depressed, he knows it, and just sits by me to pass the time until the storm is over.

He does not judge me.  He does not reject me.

When he sleeps, his breathing is calm and gentle.  He has not a care about tomorrow.

When he dreams, his eyes twitch and legs run as if he is a puppy again – he is all in.

When he senses my distress, he extends his little paw and wraps his claws so expertly around the shape of my human hand – he knows the hand so well.  It is as if God whispered in his ear before he was born: “You will go to comfort them.”

When night comes, he does not know whether he will live to see another day.  He lets it all go anyway.  What will be, will be.

He does not know about terrorism, or who the Prime Ministers and Presidents of the world are, or who is on the ‘world’s richest’ list.  He just wants to lick my hand and get my attention.

He flicks my arm away from my keyboard or mouse with the push of his nose under my armpit.

He makes funny noises when he wants different things, and knows how to sing (read: wail) without caring about what others think.

Sometimes I will find him sitting on his favourite chair, gazing up into the sky on a Summer’s morning.

When he is in my practice room in Winter, he hogs the heater.

Now that he is old, his little white beard is spreading, and he cannot keep up with his younger comrades.  But he tries.

When he realizes that his body is not what it used to be, he sits and looks with longing: “I can’t do that anymore”.  He accepts that… but only for five minutes.

Then he plays and leaps again without worrying whether the next breath will be his last.

Is this not how we should live?  Those of us who are so wrapped up in our jobs, achievements, appearance, age, dramas, striving, and worries?  Yes, the life of a dog is easier than ours in so many ways, but have we overcomplicated things?  Are we not the ones who have tied ourselves into knots and forgotten how to appreciate just living in the now? 

Yes, dogs do not have to make money, work, cook, drive, connect to a device, or navigate the complexities of relationships, the personalities of people (except those who have been cruel to them), and so many other demands of being human, but their biggest lessons to us are found in just accepting things as they are.  They forgive us when there are so many reasons not to.  They remain loyal, even to the point of death. 

My dog eats like the wind because he was once a stray who had to struggle to survive before he was rescued.  But now, he teaches me about appreciation because he is so thankful for his home and family who love him dearly.  He is the most grateful dog we have ever owned.  He is intelligent and communicates with his eyes, sounds, and gestures.

I often wonder what he would say if he could suddenly talk one day.  I am sure it would be something like: “Why don’t you chill out more?” or “Let go and just let things be.” or even “Get over yourself!” in the nicest possible way of course, while nudging me with his little black muzzle.

One day, I know that he will leave us and I will never stroke his fur again, nor look into those precious eyes.  On that day, I know that the tears will pour profusely and my heart will be broken – just as it has been before.  But for now, I thank God for this creature – His creature, the dog – my dog – for what he teaches me about everything that truly matters.  He knows how to keep it real in this journey called life.

Thank you, my beautiful boy.

Image Credits:
Flower frame: pixabay.com
Dog: The MuSinGer