OP-ED: The dogs we loved and will never forget
As I write this, Lola, our seven-pound Shorkie, is sleeping beside my left leg. Her breathing and heartbeat seem synchronized with mine. Every few minutes she opens one eye to make sure I am still there.
A few months ago, a friend passed away at age 92. His family ended his obituary with something unique and deeply touching. After listing his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and his career accomplishments and community activities, they included a tribute to every dog he had owned and loved throughout his life.
The list was amazing.
Frank’s dogs included Pammy, Tootsie, Brutus, Pixie, Bridget, Astro, Ginger, Winston, Blackie, Harris, Caesar, Benny, Shelby, Simon, Buddha, Dharma, Jane, Moses, Sam, Luke, Sadie, Susie, Oso, Max, Marty, and Tootsie II.
At first, I smiled. Then I realized those names represented more than 90 years of companionship, loyalty, comfort, and unconditional love. Looking at that list, I realized Frank could probably remember every one of them without ever glancing at a photograph.
My own list is considerably shorter. There was Teddy, Coco, Tessie, Little Stuff, Max, Brody, and now Lola. There were several other family-related dogs whose names have unfortunately disappeared somewhere in my mental hard drive.
What I do know is that I can remember exactly how each dog made me feel. I can still picture their excitement when they greeted me at the door. It was as if I had been gone for six months instead of six minutes. I remember long walks, muddy paws, chewed shoes, skunk encounters, and countless tennis balls that somehow vanished into another dimension. I also remember the dedication and kindness of the veterinarians who cared for them through the years.
Most of all, I think about those rough days when a dog was that friend who sat quietly beside me. Dogs have an uncanny ability to know when we need them.
There have been countless studies documenting the emotional and physical benefits of pet ownership. Researchers tell us dogs can reduce stress, lower blood pressure, improve mental health, encourage exercise, and decrease loneliness. I believe it. In fact, I saw that in action time and again at our hospital.
A dog can sense sadness. They know when we are sick, worried, and happy.
Most importantly, they don’t care about our titles, bank accounts, political affiliations, or social status. They just want to know whether we are coming back home. There is something incredibly comforting about that kind of uncomplicated relationship.
The world can be noisy and complex. Technology moves faster every year. News headlines arrive by the minute. Phones ring, buzz, vibrate, and demand attention. Emails multiply like rabbits.
Meanwhile, a dog is perfectly content to sit beside you on the couch and share a quiet afternoon.
It is one of life’s greatest gifts.
Dogs teach patience, forgiveness, loyalty, and perhaps most importantly, unconditional love. They ask for very little and somehow give back far more than they receive.
Perhaps that is why so many people remember their dogs long after they have forgotten other details from the same period of life. I expect I will remember Teddy, Coco, Tessie, Little Stuff, Max, Brody, and Lola until the very end. Their wagging tails, wet noses, and the comforting feeling that I was never entirely alone.
And when my time comes, I would not object if someone added their names to my obituary, too. After all, they were family. Frankly, I have a strong suspicion that dogs get through the pearly gates a lot faster than people do. They have fewer explanations to make.
“Well, I chewed Mom’s favorite shorts, pooped in the kitchen, and woke everyone up at 3:30 in the morning because I heard a squirrel. Other than that, I was a pretty good dog.”
That is probably a lot shorter conversation than many of us are going to have.
Nick Jacobs lives in Windber.