Happy Easter

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.

King Louie

It has been a long time since I last had a dog. To be honest, I never really had a dog of my own. My family has had dogs. Several in fact. There were the Samoyed Huskies when I was very little, then a succession of black labs, including Briquette and Muscles. And then of course, there was Gizmo. The family has always had dogs, but they were more like community property, belonging to everyone together and no one specifically. To be fair, the whole family actually belonged to Gizzy, but that is to be expected from Chihuahua royalty.

But now I have my own dog. My very own. And it is incredible. Louie is, without a doubt, the best dog I have ever had. Gizzy is a very close second, may she rest in little doggy peace, but there is just something special about Louie.

As I have struggled with unemployment, and the injustice of the whole situation, there have been times when the emotion of it all has overwhelmed me. There was one instance, when I was searching in vain for new job postings and feeling particularly bitter and angry, when Louie made himself noticed. I sat at the computer with bitter tears welling in my eyes, and Louie came up to me, tail wagging and floppy ears dangling. He put his front paws on my knees, and wanted to come up. I picked him up, and he started licking the tears off my cheeks, and then nuzzled down into my neck. It was precisely and exactly the emotional support that I needed at the moment, and it came from a dog.

How do they know? How do dogs know just how to respond to human emotion? Do we smell different when we are upset? Do they have a special 6th sense for picking up on human emotions? However they do it, I am grateful for it.

I am especially grateful for Louie in a way that many people will never be able to understand. I know it is irrational, and I am even a little embarrassed to admit it, but Louie is like the son Dana and I have been unable to have.

Some of you will know what I am talking about, because you have been there. You have struggled to have children, and in the mean time, you have been enormously grateful for the unconditional love of a dog (or two). You know who you are.  The rest of you will just have to imagine. When what you want most of all in the world is to have children, a dog is like a godsend. A dog gives you someone to love, someone to teach, and someone to take care of. And a dog loves you back. A dog gives you a reason to refer to your wife as "mommy," which is a gift of such great value that I can't even describe it. A dog of my own has given me somebody who looks up to me, someone who depends on me. Someone who makes me feel, even just a little bit, like a dad. And that, again, is a gift of such great value as to defy description.

I love him. More than is even remotely logical. He is the best therapist I have ever had, and exactly what Dana and I need right now. I love what he has done for her, and how often he makes her smile with affection and pride. He is not a pet at all. He is family.

Which, in what might be an odd turn, helps me to feel even more confident about our adoption decision. I figure, if I can love a little adopted four legged beagle as intensely as I do, then loving an adopted baby should be as natural as sunrise. I think I always knew that, but having the proof right in front of me, licking my toes and making me laugh in spite of myself, makes me that much more certain.