Going to the Dogs

Trey Smith

There have only been a very few years throughout my 54 in which there hasn't been at least one dog in my household. For the most part, these dogs have been large or mid-sized; it is only now as I enter my later years with a broken down body that my wife and I have opted for two squirts to go along with one big dog.

While like most dog lovers I like the companionship dogs offer, there is another reason I like having them (cats too) around: A human can learn a lot of admirable traits from our four-legged friends.

The first valuable lesson is that of nonstop love. Whether I'm in a good mood or a testy one, my dogs are ready and willing to hand out affection. Due to my physical issues, there are some days in which I am cranky. Everything hurts all at once and even slight movements bring howls of pain. My dogs seem to sense this and it is on those occasions that they hover around me even more than usual dispensing out their little kisses.

Another valuable lesson I have learned from my canine buddies is not to hold a grudge. There are times when Lily or Buddy doesn't quite make it outside to do their business and a wee wee stain ends up on the carpet. If caught around the time of the dastardly act, either Della or I scolds the culprit. For a few moments, they run to hide because, well, no one likes being scolded. But, in no time at all, the scolding fades from memory and they return to a lap like nothing ever happened.

Lily and Buddy spend a good deal of each day playfully wrestling or chasing each other around throughout the house and yard. Every now and then, one or the other gets a tad bit too aggressive and the other one growls or nips. There is a brief standoff which can look like the beginnings of a donnybrook. But, only moments later, all is forgiven and they resume playing as if nothing untoward happened.

In many ways, the best lesson of all is one about the simple joys of life. While we humans seem preoccupied with success, status, and money, my dogs couldn't care less. Toss them a bone, ball or stick and they can be content for hours. Scratch their tummies and they experience nirvana!

Sometimes they don't seem to be doing much of anything at all and yet it's easy to tell they are happy and content with life. I think they merely are overjoyed to be alive and with those who matter most to them.

Sounds like a good thing for all of us to embrace.