My Version of… He Was Just a Dog

It will hit you at the weirdest times, surrounded by friends and family, surrounded by laughter and good times, and you’ll catch yourself thinking, gods, what’s wrong with me, he was just a dog.

And he was.

He was just a dog.

And he taught you humility, and perseverance. He taught you to live in the moment. He taught you unconditional love. He taught you strength. He taught you how, sometimes, in the face of adversity, it’s not all about you. It’s about those who mean the most to you. It’s about what’s ahead, not what we leave behind.

He taught you how to be flexible. How to laugh. How not to take things so seriously. How to live life and then let it go because something… whatever your belief tells you… lies beyond. And if it doesn’t? What difference does it make?

The list of things he taught you is long. With it you could wax poetic. With it you could raise yourself up to something he was, yet never sought to be. Something that even in your wildest dreams you can never aspire to because… well… you’re just a human. And let’s face it, humans are a sad, sorry lot.

Yet, because of him, you can glimpse something else. You can see beyond the mundane. Beyond the daily grind. Beyond the pain endured with not even so much as a hint…

My god, there’s a squirrel in that tree!! There’s a rabbit running across the lawn. There’s the sun on the grass, rain on the leaves, snow we can roll in! We. Are. Fucking. Alive. There is life to be lived each and every day because…

Well…

Because…

He was just a dog. And that’s what they do.

And I wish I could be just a dog.