Monday, May 14, 2012

"The better I get to know people, the more I find myself loving dogs."

 "My sunshine doesn't come from the skies, it comes from the love in my dog's eyes."

The day is over. I'm stuck in traffic, listening to my own thoughts like wireless headphones. As I drive my car into the driveway I can already feel their anxiety of someone waiting for me. I turn the knob, open the door and let my briefcase fall at my feet.

Immediately I am tackled to the floor by two small creatures, creatures who are so grateful that I am back. The love that a dogs give is so incredibly powerful, unconditional and pure that sometimes I wonder if I even deserve it. They don't ask for much, yet they give so much. I can feel the love, the "I am so glad you're home", the relief that I have returned that all they can do in shower me in kisses, kisses that they believe is the highest form of love.

However, a dog's love is a funny thing. I've realized that the more I get to know people, the more I love dogs. We live in this world where one of our main goals as a race is to love each other, yet we do the farthest thing from that. Dogs, on the other hand, aren't taught to love or be grateful, or to not bite the hand that picked them up when no one gave them a second look, they just know. 

I once read this a couple of years ago and it truly touched me:

"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.'' 

I cried when I read this because I understood that we humans have it all wrong, we try loving in ways that are not love and dogs don't understand loving in another way. This is love, we need to embrace it. 

"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion." -Unknown-

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

"We always wish for the wrong things."

Our wishes want what reality can't give us.

Everyday I wake up and wish for the luck to be my side, for the day to go smoothly, full of life and smiles.

8:00AM, I wake up and check my phone almost instantly, smiling at her words she's sent hours before I have landed from my plane of dreams. I get up and do my daily routine, staring at my phone while I eat a bowl of cereal, searching for the perfect reply to compliment her words. 

She's special to me, and I'm nothing to her because she is everything to someone else. I accept this fate every morning, yet I wish it wasn't like this. 
Every single day, where the mornings are perfect, where the coffee is hot, and the sun is shining, she is still just a wish. A wish cleverly constructed by my imagination that maybe, just maybe, I might be so special to her as she is to me. A wish that one day, while we share stares, she might have a lapse of judgement and lean in for a kiss.

Like the wishes we make at every birthday cake, I sit silently and smile, waiting for them to come true.