I don’t know if that title is right, because they aren’t God’s in that they don’t demand worship or sacrifice. They don’t condemn humans to Hell and they would never demand us be subservient to them. They love us like a God would. The Christian New Testament God where he’s all forgiving and shit. That part is true.
I have loved dogs my whole life, sadly I have not had many dogs in my life. Childhood asthma then my parents divorce and the subsequent head ache of raising two and then three boys meant there was never space for one. Not until I was nearly done University. My dad had two dogs, two little guys, but we only saw them on weekends. They were great and I loved them and they loved me, but they never felt like my dog.
Not until Jackson entered my life did I know what having a dog was. I had one as a very young child, when my parents were still together. Toby was his name. I don’t have many memories of him but some of my earliest memories have him in them. They had to give him up as my childhood asthma took a toll and the choice was my health or the dog. I remember being sad when he left, I remember missing him. Probably the first time in my life I had ever felt loss and I was so young.
I knew one day I would have a dog of my own. Once I moved out and got established in life. But all through my teens I wanted one, tried to guilt my parents into getting one. I never could, they knew the real work a dog entailed.
Then as I entered my last year of University Jackson came into our lives. A black mix of some kind, we never knew, he was a rescue from Northern Ontario. Still a puppy when we got him, we all instantly fell in love. Our lives were forever changed.
For the years I lived at home after graduating he was there. Outgoing and friendly, his shaggy black wolfish look never fit his love for everyone he met. People were often frightened of him which I always found funny because he was the biggest dope. I don’t think he met a person he didn’t like.
I took him on hikes, wrestled with him in the yard, swam with him in the pool and lakes. I missed him when I moved out, but he was always there when I came home for a visit. A happy bark and wagging tail to welcome me at the door.
He loved to sit on chairs and watch the world. His hips always bothered him, cursed with hip dysplasia I hate to think of the pain he was probably always in. Not agony, but a constant discomfort. There was no treatment but we did what we could with diet and proper care. If you could have asked him about it I am sure he would say it was no bother, he was just happy to see you. Happy to walk with you, happy to play, you would never know he was in any kind of pain. He was so full of love and joy.
Eventually I did get that dog of my own, my hundred pounds of Saint Bernard, Bernese love. Ember, she entered mine and my wife’s life as a puffy little thing, growing to her giant size faster than a blink. Another amazing dog, full of love, she never replaced Jackson in my life, but she did learn from him.
She took to him from day one. They were the best of friends. Sometimes her energy was too much for him, age catching up, but he never said no to a play. Never hurt her or was mean to her, he would tell her off on the odd occasion when the play was too much and she would listen, calming down and apologizing in her doggy way.
I like to think he taught her a bit about love, a bit about loyalty and being outgoing. I see memories of him in her. He did more than just teach her where the treat drawer was.
Time passed and he slowed down, his hips hurting more and more, his face going grey. He never said no to some belly rubs or a little wrestling though. He was just happy to be there, to be a part of the family. We were his everything.
My brothers moved out as the years passed and he remained, keeping the house feeling full for my parents. Keeping them from being alone in an empty nest. Settling into a relaxed senior life. No longer chasing squirrels but still watching them, making sure they knew it was his yard.
His bark got harsher, he grew large lipomas that weighed him down. My parents elected to leave them untouched as they were no harm and the stress of major surgery to remove them would be too much.
Every visit, every family barbeque or dinner or pool day he was there. Getting his love and dishing it out. Going to bed early at night and cuddling with my parents in their king size bed with a ramp just for him.
His breathing became harder, his larynx paralyzed from pressure on a nerve. He struggled to stand on his own. Going up stairs was becoming impossible. Still, his tail would wag, he would lift his head and paw the air, demanding belly rubs.
On his last day he could no longer stand, could hardly keep his head up, but he still kissed our hands, still stared into our eyes, you could see the love there. He knew it was time, knew that we loved him.
We were all there with him at the end. His three brothers and sister-in-law. His mom and dad. He went with grace and peace. He will live forever in our hearts.
I don’t know what humans did to deserve dogs, but I am damn grateful for them. I could not imagine a life without a dog in it. They may not be Gods but they are something close.
