“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

As a Christian, I am told to love like Christ. To love unconditionally and completely. To love without regards to any characteristics of any human.

And as a Christian, this is the most difficult task asked of me. It’s almost impossible for me to imagine living and loving like Christ did without having experienced His time on earth and seeing that a love like that is possible. How can I love like Christ when I can’t look at Him?

So I look to my dog instead.

My dog, who never considers if my outfit deems me worthy of his love.

My dog, who never thinks twice about my looks or my hairstyles.

My dog, who could care less if I failed that test as long as I come home to him after a day at school.

My dog, who doesn’t ask me what college I’m going to or what I’m going to do with my life or if my career is worthy enough because he’s only concerned with our present time together.

My dog, who has patiently waited for me to come home every day. Who is kind and never intentionally harms. Who does not envy my time with others but merely rejoices in my return. Who does not boast about his canine intelligence or takes pride in his squirrel-chasing accomplishments. Who is never self-seeking but instead seeks me out in my times of sadness, who never angers even when my anger is upon him, who never keeps count of the times I didn’t feed him until hours after his meal time or the days I forgot to give him the walks he so needed. Who does not delight in causing trouble but instead looks for the moments in which he can wag his tail and receive a “good boy.”

My dog, who always protects my family with every bark at every passing person or other animal outside.

My dog, who hopes for nights where he can sleep at the end of my bed and days where I don’t leave for eight hours.

My dog, who trusts me to always come home.

My dog, who loves me without really needing to know me, because all he needs to knows is that I’m his person and he’s my pup.

So, 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, I’d like you to meet my dog.

And, my dear dog, I now understand why your life seems so short and mine so long — you’ve already figured out what love is, and I’m still learning.

Thank you for being the best teacher and friend I could ask for.

Love fur-ever,