Dogs Are Special

Dogs are special.

Really.

Dogs have always been a “thing” in my life.  But it took me almost 40 years to realize how special dogs really are.

Growing-up, the family had a dog named Baron.  He was a dirty white mutt.  I remember his older years more than his younger years - he and I were about the same age - and truth-be-told, I don’t think he ever felt loved.  Or, I don’t think we - the family - ever showed him enough love.

Baron was very stinky; Baron had the “wet dog” smell even when he wasn’t wet.  And because of that, he rarely was allowed into the home.  Instead, on a daily basis, he’d move between his dog run outside and the shelter of the garage.  

He wasn’t ignored.  And he was cared for.  But looking back on it, I do have a lot of regret for not understanding the true nature of dogs - what “their people” truly mean to them.

When I was about ten years old, a second dog was added to the family home.  Ebony was shaggy and black; she looked like she was mostly of the New Foundland breed, but who knows.  

Ebony was gifted to me as a birthday present, but she was really for the whole family.  And Baron was smitten with her.  They were best friends.  And while Ebony settled into the same life as Baron, she was favored.  And she was allowed in the house much more than Baron ever was.

Again, hindsight is an incredible thing.  I don’t ever recall worrying - at all - about Baron being left in the garage overnight, and Ebony being inside with the family.  Sure, the argument was that Ebony didn’t stink like Baron did, but that’s not an argument that a dog really understands.  

As with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever - especially dogs.

Baron grew old; that unfortunate visit to the veterinarian’s office happened.  

A few years later, Ebony grew old as well.  Another visit to the veterinarian’s office.  

Another family dog - a Scottish Terrier named Chevis - came and went as well.

As I grew up and traveled the world, dogs were everywhere; wherever people were, dogs were. Whether it was for companionship, protection, hunting, or simply reaping the benefits of mutual survivorship, the dog/person relationship transcends cultures, environments, and time.  

In my twenties - and with a maturing brain - the special place that dogs have amongst us, began to take shape in my life; dogs began to not only be something that was just “around,” but instead dogs began to be something that brought out tremendous empathy in me.  I realized that dogs are an extraordinarily unique piece of the animal kingdom and a unique variable in human life.

And it was a pair of Rottweilers named Aliyah and Bubba that really established these thoughts and feelings as part of my character.

These two Rotties came into my life at a very challenging time.  And while they were once again “family dogs,” they were also, sort of “my dogs.”  I felt a stewardship over them that I had not ever felt before.  

And while the relationship that I had with them was a bit removed, I constantly thought of them and their well being.  

“Were they inside for that last bad storm that blew through?”

“Were they still being fed that ‘Ole Roy’ garbage from Walmart?”

“How is that lump in Aliyah’s chest doing?”

Questions like these began to become quite obsessive.  And as I considered a career in the field of veterinary medicine, I became more educated and became a greater advocate for both of them.

And that’s not to say that these two dogs - Aliyah and Bubba - had a difficult life; they were both well cared for, and they were shown more love then that of the earlier “family dogs.”  I was just becoming more and more self aware about just how special dogs are.

Again however, dogs age much quicker than people do; Aliyah and Bubba passed away.

Not long after that, a small, nerdy, and emotionally-fragile dog came into my life.  Jack was a Boston Terrier that was the center of the universe for a family that I came to know very well; Jack’s “human mom” became my wife.   

And while my first impression of Jack and the dynamic of his family was “holy-shit, this dog is spoiled,” I quickly came to the conclusion that Jack was indeed not spoiled.  

Jack was loved.  

And coming into Jack’s family I learned another thing about dogs - the more you love them, the more they love you back.  

Jack left us a few years back.  And his passing was very hard on us all.  And while some would say that Jack was lucky to have the dog’s life that he did, I think that Jack’s family was luckier to have him - he brought so much joy to everyone.

Today I have a dog named Lucy.  

Lucy is a pain in the ass.  

But from the moment we brought her home as a puppy, Lucy has been by my side.  Her first night home, I slept on the floor next to her; I held her little paw in my hand all night.  She was unsure, probably quite scared, and I wanted to do everything that I could to make her feel like she had found her forever pack in a forever home.

There is a caveat to this whole “dogs are special” thing however: dogs are only special if you allow them to be special.  

So far, I’ve had half a lifetime of learning about dogs, learning from dogs, and learning how dogs live with people - and vice versa.  This learning only came from all the aforementioned dogs that I allowed myself to experience in life.

When Lucy was a puppy - there were many times the following words were spoken: “that fuckin’ dog is going on Craigslist.”  While the threat was never really all that serious, having a puppy - a Boxer puppy - shit, piss, chew, tear, and dig on and through everything for the first year of their life, makes the Craigslist outburst quite fathomable.  

But even today, when Lucy pisses me off - gets in the trash or jumps a bit too high and gives me a bloody nose - she’s still my Lucy and I’m her family.  

In closing, this entire post was merely a preamble for the following edict:

Dogs are special.  

And if you don’t think so, then you’re a soulless, piss-stain of a person and I hope that you go to Hell when you die. 

Because you don’t deserve to go to Heaven and be with all the dogs.  

Snack on that fuckin’ bullshit you anti-dog twats.