I have a mug that says. 'Only My Dog Understands Me'. Most days, I believe this to be true!
I am the devoted guardian of a scruffy schnoodle named Meeghan who regards me with the same boundless adoration I shower upon her. At the end of each workday, she greets me with the excitement befitting a traveler returning from lands afar. With the simplest of looks, touches and whimpers, she and I exchange our news of the day; say “I love you”, and immediately bond anew after this separation as if we’d never been apart. I cannot say the same about the complicated people I live with and love.
Meeghan’s response is immediate and unbridled. I can be gone for an hour, a day or a week – our reunion is always the same and a joy to us both. If work has worn me down, I’m quick to head for the couch, my trusty friend eagerly at my heels. She tempts me to play with nudges and wags, and perhaps the offer of a favourite toy. She is hard to resist, and I am easily coaxed to indulgence.
When tiredness wins out, I patiently explain that I must stretch out for a while. Head tilted to the side, her ears perk up for words she might recognize. It doesn’t seem to matter what I say, in the end – she is endlessly fascinated by me as I am with her. She waits whilst I snuggle into the cushions, her tiny face intent on my every move, until- with a small, contented sigh - she curls tightly into my body, and is instantly asleep.
Our needs are simple, Meeghan’s and mine. We walk a little, play a lot, and settle in beside each other every night. Life is fairly straightforward for dogs. We provide them with food, exercise and affection – in return, they devote their entire lives to our wellbeing and protection. Such absolute love and loyalty is priceless, and is far from a common trait in humankind. Those of us lucky enough to share our lives with a canine companion know we definitely get the better end of the deal.
By my estimation, Meeghan and I will turn seventy together, two old girls needing little more than a warm fire and each other. We’ll take long walks, and longer naps. Pressed side by side on the couch, we’ll watch chickadees land on the birdfeeder outside the window, and share looks of surprise at the curious sound of squirrels scampering across the roof. Small things please us.
I look forward to sharing years with her, everything we need to know about each other understood without ever having to be put into words. So often, I look up to see her gaze upon me. There is no guile in those clear eyes, and no judgment. I am accepted unconditionally, and I am dazzled by the purity of this acceptance.
There is nothing I will not do to deserve that trust in me. Because of one small dog, I have become a better person. For that - and for her - I will be forever grateful.
Meeghan’s response is immediate and unbridled. I can be gone for an hour, a day or a week – our reunion is always the same and a joy to us both. If work has worn me down, I’m quick to head for the couch, my trusty friend eagerly at my heels. She tempts me to play with nudges and wags, and perhaps the offer of a favourite toy. She is hard to resist, and I am easily coaxed to indulgence.
When tiredness wins out, I patiently explain that I must stretch out for a while. Head tilted to the side, her ears perk up for words she might recognize. It doesn’t seem to matter what I say, in the end – she is endlessly fascinated by me as I am with her. She waits whilst I snuggle into the cushions, her tiny face intent on my every move, until- with a small, contented sigh - she curls tightly into my body, and is instantly asleep.
Our needs are simple, Meeghan’s and mine. We walk a little, play a lot, and settle in beside each other every night. Life is fairly straightforward for dogs. We provide them with food, exercise and affection – in return, they devote their entire lives to our wellbeing and protection. Such absolute love and loyalty is priceless, and is far from a common trait in humankind. Those of us lucky enough to share our lives with a canine companion know we definitely get the better end of the deal.
By my estimation, Meeghan and I will turn seventy together, two old girls needing little more than a warm fire and each other. We’ll take long walks, and longer naps. Pressed side by side on the couch, we’ll watch chickadees land on the birdfeeder outside the window, and share looks of surprise at the curious sound of squirrels scampering across the roof. Small things please us.
I look forward to sharing years with her, everything we need to know about each other understood without ever having to be put into words. So often, I look up to see her gaze upon me. There is no guile in those clear eyes, and no judgment. I am accepted unconditionally, and I am dazzled by the purity of this acceptance.
There is nothing I will not do to deserve that trust in me. Because of one small dog, I have become a better person. For that - and for her - I will be forever grateful.
.
