A Tribute to May

It's Thanksgiving. I'm so thankful I could burst. Truly. Yet, sometimes I get a crazy thought that I'd be better off without a dog. Then I could finally manage to keep a beautifully clean house. Why do I put up with dog drool, barking, funny smells, nose marks on windows, embarrassing wild behavior and dog hair everywhere? It's simple. I enjoy being loved unconditionally.

My faithful, not-too-bright, pure-hearted, thick-headed, affectionate, resolutely guarding canine, KC the collie, wants to be with me. Although I get covered in hair, I love coming home and having my happily wagging dog rub all over my legs. He's telling me he missed me and he’s glad I’m home again. This behavior is so cat-like that it earned him the nickname “Kitty.”

Not only that, but I love having someone follow me from room to room protecting me from the “dangers” in the world like squirrels and vacuum cleaners. Dogs also remind me of the sweetest things in life like playtime, cuddling and expressing affection.

I just finished reading Marley and Me by John Grogan. I laughed out loud a lot. Yes, I cried too. As I read I fondly relived my memories of May, our family’s dearly loved golden retriever. She lives on in our hearts. She taught us just as Marley taught the Grogans. She became part of us; she endeared her way into our lives, smiling all the while. I still miss her. Just touching her ear leather was therapeutic. I think she knew that. In tribute to that precious pet who became more like a family member, I submit John Gogan’s words of wisdom about dogs:

“What I really wanted to say was how this animal had touched our souls and taught us some of the most important lessons of our lives. 'A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours,' I wrote. 'Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things — a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.'

It was an amazing concept that I was only now, in the wake of his death, fully absorbing: Marley as mentor. As teacher and role model. Was it possible for a dog — any dog, but especially a nutty, wildly uncontrollable one like ours — to point humans to the things that really mattered in life? I believed it was. Loyalty. Courage. Devotion. Simplicity. Joy. And the things that did not matter too. A dog has no use for fancy cars or big homes or designer clothes. Status symbols mean nothing to him. A water logged stick will do just fine. A dog judges others not by their color or creed or class but by who they are inside. A dog doesn’t care if you are rich or poor, educated or illiterate, clever or dull. Give him your heart and he will give you his.” (Marley & Me, pp.279-280)