daughter came and sat on my lap. She was carrying a photo album and handed
it to me without saying a word. I opened it up and was stunned to find it
filled with pictures of our late dog. It was one year to the day since she
died and my daughter was brokenhearted. Though I seemed to complain about
the dog much of the time, I really loved that little beagle. As I looked
at the pictures I was reminded of the good and bad of dog ownership.
History seems to bring out more of the good about a lost person or pet. I
mostly thought of the good. There were pictures of her lying by me as she
was prone to do. She also was on the bed in “her” spot. She was
pictured eating quite contently whatever was put in her bowl. Then came
the pictures of her being poofed. That’s the word we use in our family to
describe petting or rubbing your dog until they are so contented that their eyes
begin to squint. It is the moment of total relaxation when the dog knows
she is loved just for being our dog. My heart ached. I had forgotten
how much that dog had meant to me. When I was sick, she never left my
bedside. When my son didn’t want to eat his dinner, she sat under the
table and waited for rewards from him. When strangers came to the door she
howled relentlessly until she decided they were friends and would proceed to try
to make them rub her belly. When I was down I would ask her, “Are you my
girl?”, and she would lick my face once. She didn’t fetch or walk without
a leash or heal or any of the other things T.V. dogs are supposed to do.
My mother, however, put it best some years back. “She is trained perfectly
to be exactly what you want in a dog”, she noted. It was true. I
could have the worst day in history and that dog would be thrilled just to be
let outside at the end of my day. Before coming to bed, the dog would go
into each of my children’s rooms and check on them. Then she would ball-up
at the foot of my bed. She was a great dog and I miss her. As
I closed the photo album I saw all the Christmas lists. So and so wanted
such and such. Don’t buy this IPod, buy this one. In that moment the
lists looked trivial. Here I had memories of a dog that was happy just to
get a little attention followed by lists of goods needed to make people
happy. Maybe dogs have the right idea? Maybe just the simple things
in life are all we really need to find happiness. I can enjoy sitting next
to my wife watching the news. I like talking about football with my
son. My oldest daughter always keeps me entertained with her stories from
work or school. (Yes my children are story tellers too.) Even
watching a Disney show with my youngest daughter brings me joy. My
granddaughter will sneak up by grandpa every once in a while and snuggle.
Those gifts mean more than anything written on those Christmas lists. I am
thankful that I already have my gifts.