Thinking hard about loving, losing, meaning, belonging

It’s been a rough winter. Lots of my friends here…aren’t. They just aren’t here anymore. You people use words that say it in a kind and gentle way, but my friends have died. I have been thinking a lot about losing friends. Here are some of my thoughts. Remember, though, I’m a dog. I have ideas, not necessarily answers.

I have vague sensations and feelings of life before I was put here. I believe that we dogs start out at the place you call the Rainbow Bridge and wait for the right human to be matched up with. It doesn’t always work. Sometimes we have to try again. But I feel very strongly that I waited there until it was my turn, and I know I had an ugly, ugly start. I was plopped down in a horrific place where I was yelled at, chased with sticks, sprayed with hoses, ignored, neglected, starved and infected with disease. I had to live like that for months until my family-to-be drove down the road I was on.

When I call my people my Man and my Woman, it’s because that is what they acted like for me. Moms and dads are great; I needed a Man and a Woman, though. When the car stopped and my Woman got out to see what I was, she wasn’t a mom. She was a Woman, gentle and kind and saving. When my Man parked at the gas station and bought me Oscar Meyer bologna and cheese to save my life, he was a Man. And when the drunk guy came to the car and claimed I belonged to him and tried to fight my Man for me and my Man said “if that’s how you treated him then you don’t deserve to have him and I will tell the police and have you arrested,” he was a Man, strong and powerful and protective.

I had to wait for these people but it was worth it. I endured the unendurable because I knew they would save me and I would always be safe.

What purpose did any of this have? Well, I’m not sure. However, I was so sick and contagious that I had to be isolated at my new home for almost 3 months. And 3 months after that, my Woman and Man started trying to find out why life was so hard for my Boy. Later on they found out about something called autism. I sometimes think that they were practicing with me so they could be even better parents for that Boy. I was very needy and sick and weak. My Woman was my caretaker. She had to learn patience and compassion and tolerance. I think it helped when my Boy needed a lot of all of those things. She had practiced a lot.

So what about the friends who have left? What was their purpose? What did their lives mean and how did they belong? I am a dog, and I am only me. But I will bet that their families can tell you stories of how they had a special purpose. I will bet that those dogs waited at the Rainbow Bridge to be put into the right home so they could do the job they needed to do.

Well, I hear you say, my dog has no special job. He came to me as a puppy and has lived a life of luxury. There is no tragedy or mountain to overcome in my family. Maybe you should think harder. Let me tell you what I else I have done here.

I have been a warm blanket for my Woman to curl up with on the floor when someone special died. When she cried so hard, her tears went into the ruff at my neck and I collected each one. When my family cries and doesn’t have a tissue, I clean the tears. I have been a quiet ear, a completely forgiving confessor when my Man or Woman messes up big time and needs someone to tell, someone they know won’t get angry.

My Woman gets miffed at how I have always slept right at the front door, so close she can’t even open it to come inside. I do that for a reason. I do it so I will be the first thing she sees when she comes inside, my tail pounding on the floor in happiness to see her again. Even if she is only taking out the garbage. I do it so my Man sees my smile first thing when he comes home from work and it is dark and cold outside and his shoes are full of snow. I do it so I can be close to the door when my Boy needs me to come outside really fast to play.

We are always there for you, even if you don’t need us. We listen and don’t tell. We see and don’t judge. We let you cry into our fur, yell at us when you really want to yell at someone else, trip over us in the dark because it’s better than leaving you alone. When you bring us home, you often tell others that you rescued us. You have it backwards, but we don’t contradict you. We live with you and we love you and then we leave you. But we will be with you again. My Woman says she doesn’t want to go to heaven if dogs aren’t there. She says she can’t imagine how God could want us to be happy but not let us have our dogs. I am just a dog and don’t know everything. But I know she is right. I’m still thinking about most of this, but I think I’m figuring things out.

Author: Dakota Dawg

Dakota lived high in Colorado and was a member of the February Furballs. He lost a front leg to soft tissue sarcoma on 2-11-11. Dakota impulsively decided to see what the whole "rainbow bridge" business was about on 12-15-12 and before we could stop him, he was gone. But never forgotten. Never. View all posts by Dakota Dawg