A Dog's Purpose

I usually despise e-mail forwards, but my Dad sent me a really lovely one (I don't know the original source) and I thought I'd post it here:


"Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife Lisa, and their little boy Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle.

I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer. I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home.

As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for six-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience.

The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker 's family surrounded him. Shane seemed so calm, petting the old dog for the last time, that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away.

The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion. We sat together for a while after Belker's Death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives.

Shane, who had been listening quietly, piped up, 'I know why.'

Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. It has changed the way I try and live.

He said,'People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life -- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?' The six-year-old continued,

'Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.'



Live simply.


Love generously.


Care deeply.


Speak kindly.


Remember, if a dog was the teacher you would learn things like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!"

Sadie

I was directed by a friend to this heartbreakingly beautiful post about Sadie, and I wanted to share it with you.

Click here.

If you have blogged a tribute to a pet or know someone who has, please pass it on to me; I may post a link to it here.

The Stories Keep Coming...

One of the best things about having written this book and sharing the news about it with others is that people share their own doggie memories with me. (That's a sad thing about having written this book, too--to talk to people who are still struggling after their loss)

Tonight I spoke with a really nice family who I am just coming to know after being in the same community with them for years. The mom was telling the grown son that I had written this book, and that she couldn't read it just yet, as their little dog Cody just passed this year and she didn't feel ready. This woman had already shared with me the story of Cody's passing a couple of weeks ago via e-mail right after she read my post about "Messages from Beyond"; she had an eerie experience like that on the day Cody died.

Anyway, when she told her son (and husband) about my book, her son's face lit up and he started telling me about his memories of Cody, who he described as his "best friend." He was full of joy in speaking about his late companion, and it was really great to watch his facial expressions as he spoke. Memories really do carry you through.

Watson

Those of you who have "eagle eyes" may have already noticed, but I have added another blog link down there to the right. I found Linda through Beverley Cuddy's blog yesterday. She has a blog that documents her beloved dog Watson's diagnosis of and passing from Canine Lymphoma. I started reading it from the beginning and it is heartwrenching to say the least, partly because it brings up memories of my own. Her blog brings up a questions that pet owners will debate probably forever regarding cancer treatment in animals. What I adore about her writing is that her love for Watson absolutely seeps through. Visit her!

Messages From Beyond?

I was just having an extended conversation with a friend the other evening about how Roxie (our current beagle) is TOTALLY Jim's dog, like Bijoux (our late, great beagle that Remembering Ruby was written about) was TOTALLY mine.

Although I am the one who:
1. lobbied to bring another beagle into the house
2. discovered Roxie
3. convinced Jim that it would be great to have another dog in the house
4. took her to work with me until she was 6 weeks old
5. makes regular arrangements for her to play with her doggie friends at the best Doggie Day Camp in the world--the Naperville Petsmart Petshotel (holla! to Melissa, Brooke, and the rest of the awesome staff!)
6. walks her
7. gives her regular treats
8. takes her on car rides whenever I can
9. lets her up into the bed for a few minutes after the alarm goes off in the morning
10. lets her sleep in the bed ALL NIGHT when Jim is travelling
11. gives her unending love and affection...

...the minute he walks into the room, I mostly cease to exist.

Although I loudly complain about it, I really do think it's pretty funny. I was telling this friend that I think Bijoux is making this happen, because she wants to remain the only dog in my heart. (whatever makes a person feel better, right?)

The following day, I called the vet's office because we have found a couple of fleas on Roxie and I wanted to get some Frontline medication for her so she can be flea-free. When the receptionist answered, I told her who I am and that I had brought the dog in for shots only a month ago, and could they please have some Frontline ready for me in 15 minutes? She said, "Sure, let me pull up your file. You said your dog's name is Bijoux?" Shocked, because I had never brought Bijoux to this vet, I said, "I guess I did say that. But it's Roxie!" Wow. I don't think I've done that before. I told the receptionist that I had just been talking about Bijoux the night before and that she must not be ready for me to get her out of the front of my brain just yet. Luckily, the receptionist, being obviously a dog person who understands crazies like me, just laughed.

We get other "messages" from Bijoux, too. One great example: when Bijoux was a puppy, she used to fall asleep on the arm of the couch. One evening she moved in her sleep and flipped right off. Now, Roxie always curls up on a couch cushion like most dogs would. But, every blue moon or so, we will be in the kitchen making dinner and notice her in the living room, laying long-ways on the arm of the couch, head up at full attention waiting for us to notice her. Right after we look at her, she gets back on the cushion. We tell the kids that when she's doing that, it's Bijoux trying to say hi. I know. I sound like a lunatic. But I'm not...I'm just a person who really, really loved her dog. Depending upon what you believe, events such as this could just be mere coincidence, but I choose to feel comfort by noticing them.