Doggy Heaven

I believe dogs go to heaven.

Our furry friends, our angelic pets, are shared unselfishly as gifts for nothing short of our sanity. I have often wondered why these Canis lupus familiaris require such a long lead, yet have such a short life span. I have finally come up with an answer to this “Why?” question that I have been pondering for quite some time. With many years of doggy love etched into my being, I realized that God created this intense, short-lived life of pure, unreserved love to teach us humans a valuable lesson. The magnificent brilliance of love in action leaves open the question of who trains who. Over the years of caring for my dogs, Earl, and Rufus, and of course, their care for me, I’ve come to appreciate the sacrifices made from both sides of the biscuit – the sacrifice of unconditional love. 

Love is the most powerful, complex emotion I know, an action word that invokes a million subsets of emotions within itself. It’s a word that sometimes takes a lifetime for one to experience, if we are so fortunate. Our dogs come equipped with these golden nuggets of love, likened to the bits and pieces of kibbles that they obediently wait for day after day.

Our dogs practice the act of forgiveness, selflessness, and more kisses than one could ever imagine. Flat out, my dogs have taught me love in all ways – generic, compassionate, hardest at times, comical, questionable, and unadulterated! All of this is only a fragment of what we give to each other, human-to-human.

The lessons I have learned from my dogs have been priceless and beyond the scope of what I could ever have imagined. They were ever available for action and response, waiting for that next command or signal and willfully embraced my moments of despair.

They were always concerned about my well-being. Since my dogs could tell time, they faithfully reminded me when it was time to eat, time to walk, time to play, time to rest, and yes, even time to talk!

Never concerned about the carte du jour, they ate to their hearts content. On the days when an upset stomach was at hand, I would quickly change the menu to beef and rice. On several occasions when Earl’s favorite rice was not available, I would watch with amazement as he sniffed out every bit of beef, leaving the imposter grains lingering in the bowl. Nevertheless, sick tummy or not, rice and beef was always a treat, and it didn’t seem to upset them at all!

They ate at a specific time every day that put me on the best eating schedule in my life that then allowed time for walking and playing. A sure sign of strategic brilliance.

With leash in mouth, at the door waiting, they forced me to surrender to exercise. How could I have ever looked at this as a chore? I welcomed this any day as they knew how much I deplored going to the gym. Weather was never an issue as they were fully suited for their New England climate that changed like my clothes did on my worse fashion day. They were determined to keep me healthy and satisfy their canine curiosities, all in one. They would rush out the door to greet new adventures waiting in the wilderness and I followed.

Now, let’s not think for a minute that when mischief was at hand, that they weren’t in it! Although Earl was the elder and true to his name, Rufus proved to be the “King of Mischief.”

Disregarding Earl’s constant command of STOP, Rufus avoided the call and faced the consequences of a not-so-fragrant bouquet. This was enough to put me over the edge at times, as the scolding took place, a bath was given and all was forgiven, until the next time.

As life coaches, my dogs were my therapists and my comic relief. Patiently listening for hours on end to my howling madness and not charging me a dime. I cannot count the times I’ve cried over something or someone for that matter. My dogs would quickly remind me of how important I was by nudging for biscuits or giving me their paws, slowly mending my nervous system when it was too shot to even think straight. They had a profound sense of humor, and I know they laughed at me on my crazy hair days as they cracked a crooked smile that always made me look twice.

They pitied me as they repeatedly taught me downward facing dog, a yoga pose I could never quite perfect, but they never gave up on me even when I could not get up off the mat!

When it was time for rest they would sprawl out across the sofa with a heavy sigh of contentment without a moment of resentment and never leave room for another tired body. I would nuzzle my way between the two and watch as they slowly shifted, their trusting heads now pressed upon my lap, as if to say, “Hey Mom, it’s a wrap!” With lids closed tight and snoring to my ears delight, trusted complete surrender ensued.

Sometimes we are hard pressed to have that “long lasting” love affair. That “knock your socks off” kind of love that lingers in a trusted smile or wears like a worn sock that lives comfortably in a draw. My dogs have been my loving companions through all the “ins and outs” of it and through all the “thick and thin” of it. They have protected me from intruders, made me rethink certain pursuers and unknowingly saved me from taking my life as their barking gently reminded me that feeding time was at hand. They would never let me forget just how much I was needed and loved.

Time has time of its own and we humans stay pressed for time with every tick and tock that cunningly rocks our world, but our dogs keep time to a different drum. Those dog-to-human years that I could never calculate properly, often tricked me to subtract rather than add, selfishly begging for more time. It is one of those things that we carry with us for life I guess, as we do when our human loved ones leave this earth, and we wish for an extended stay.

When my dogs passed, they passed in my arms, heads resting trustfully on my lap as they took their final breaths that would drop my tears and break my heart. I loved them hard, and they loved me steady and there was never a “Why?” question to be asked.

My dogs were loved, and I believe in love, and I believe in Doggy Heaven.