Many of my family members have had their dogs pass away lately. I had written this while in Oxford and missing my own pup. Seems fitting to share it today.
We Are Like Elves by Jamie Gergen I often wonder what we did to deserve dogs. They, who for generations bring us joy, who greet us happily after our worst day of days, as if we’d just won the world's greatest prize. And ask of us so little in return. Perhaps it is because we have won a great prize: their devotion. We, the un-aging companion must seem immortal to them. We, who will raise their grandchildren’s grandchildren, before we even show signs of our old age. They must think we are ageless, like elves or gods who summon them food from massive bags or drop it from our tables, in effortless supply. We recall their names like the litany of kings. Rex, son of Astro. Punky, daughter of Rex. Third in the long line of good dogs. We know their quirks and flaws, and they know ours. They know the cookies are hidden atop the fridge. And that you still have not thrown the ball. We raise them, care for them. We see them from pup to elder, gray grizzle covering their muzzles, gray cataracts covering their eyes. We carry them on their last days, feed them steak or chicken, and tell them they will always get to Heaven. What a shock it must be, when age and human frailty begin to show. How terrified must they be, when we stumble and fall. When our limbs grow weak and we start to fade from their world. They must help us walk or stand, in the end. How the gods must eventually fall in their eyes. And then, the mortal must care for the elves. But then, they always have cared for us, haven’t they? We, who live many decades care for beings who live for one. We are elves because we want to be there forever for our dogs. And for most of them, we can. If you want to know what love is, ask a person about their dog.
Becky