A little boy once said that dogs do not live as long as humans because they already know how to love unconditionally. I would not be the same person if I hadn’t grown up with a dog.
I was six when a new puppy joined my family—a chocolate lab. So naturally, my parents let me name him, bless their hearts, and thus his middle name was Chocolate Pudding. I would feel sorry for the poor fella with a name like that, but my dogs have always been the most dedicated beings I’ve met.
We need dogs in our life. I could relay all the research that’s even proven how they help increase our lifespan, decrease depression and so on, but you don’t need science to know that dogs are intuitive. They can sense when their owner is sad, sometimes more than people. All people need when they are sad is for someone to reach out to them. Dogs are already on their way to greet you before even walk through the door.
You don’t need science to know that dogs are simplistic. Give them a plastic water bottle and it is as if this is the greatest toy on earth. Give them a piece of your sandwich meat, and it is as if they just received a gourmet meal.
You don’t need science to know that dogs are intelligent. I mean yes, they run into glass doors often and bark when they hear nothing and lay still when someone is breaking in, but it only takes dogs a split second to recognize an unsafe person or situation. It takes even less for them find the hidden treats. It has also been proven that dogs often use their memory more so than their sense of smell to recall where something is. Go figure.
You don’t need science to know that dogs are and will always be your best friend. I have had many friends come and go, always wondering when I would finally find a best friend who would stay in my life longer than just a year or so.
Then I realize I’ve been fortunate to have three wonderful best friends who are always ready to go for an adventure, eat until we can’t feel our faces or nap like we have never seen the inside of our eyelids.
When it is time for these amazing creatures to move on, the pain is numbing. I’ve learned that from experience. There’s an emptiness like no other. For a bond that needs no words, there is no greater silence the absence of the barking, the panting or the wagging of their tales. It makes me happy to know that my dog is no longer suffering because all dogs want to do is give, even when they have nothing left to give. It inspires me to do the same; if not for me, then at least to honor all of the dogs that have brought people through their most difficult times.
Good company doesn’t always mean endless conversation. It doesn’t mean going to the fanciest of places or buying the fanciest of things. It certainly doesn’t mean betrayal, dishonesty, exclusion or insincerity. I would rather walk this earth with a dog by my side than hundreds of "friends" or dozens of worthless awards because at the end of the day, my dogs are still there for me.




















