The Love of a Dog

Note: I originally wrote this piece in 2022, but it remains as true today as it did then.

Last night I went into our room and discovered Brian with all three dogs, sitting at attention and riveted on the small piece of popcorn in his hand. I’m not sure who was enjoying the moment more - them, or him. 

As we watched TV, they settled down around the floor of our room. He looked over at me and whispered, “I love this.”

What is it about a dog? Is it their companionship? Their attention? Their non-judgment? As I write this, I am up in Shaver Lake with Harper. It’s late February and I’m sitting in a beam of sunlight streaming through pines into my corner on the couch. The sliding glass doors are wide open and Harper lays at the open door, ears occasionally perked by the errant squirrel or sparrow. And then she lays her head back down and rests.

How is it that her sunbath somehow imparts to me a calming aura, imbuing me with a sense I typically cannot discover on my own. Were I here alone, I would enjoy this moment. But I wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do with her by my side.

Why?