He was just a dog. A rescue. About half mini-poodle - we had a DNA test. 17 lbs. Longish legs. Light on his feet. Quirky. Barked too much. Didn't like car rides, but always wanted to go. Nothing really special about him compare to other dogs. But he was our dog. Lived over 16 year old. Now, he's gone. We miss him. So, I have to write.
So, what's the point of having a dog if he's just going to die? What makes any dog special?
Science has some answers. Dogs have evolved over time to better connect with humans. Perhaps vise-versa, as well?
Dogs exist because humans bred them to be useful to humans. They are not wild animals subject to the whims of nature. They are "rearranged creation". We get to decide to have a dog or not. We get to pick the dog. At that point, we are responsible for that dog. We control the environment, nutrition and health of the dog. Sounds like a lot of work. It is!
But I think this misses the point. I think the whole point is connection. We are connected to our dogs like we are to other people in a way that is deeper than we get connected to any hobby, car or favorite pair of shoes. Just look at how we react and how the dog reacts after an absence. The dog is always right there to greet you when you come back. Not because you're going to fill his food dish, but because you're you. And the feeling is mutual. We know it but it's not some intellectual discussion with the dog that conveys it, it's the physical response. Toby used climb into our lap and just about try to burrow into us, he was so happy. Couldn't sit still for a second. Nobody loves you as unconditionally as your dog.
When your dog dies, that connection gets broken and there is hope that that connection is eternal in some way because if God truly loves us, how could he allow something that good in his Creation be extinguished. It's the core of the Christian Good News. The essence of that relationship must still exist.
So, I wrote this for me. If it makes sense or resonates with you, great, but attempting to put meaning behind things great, wonderful or tragic is something I have to do. And I do it by writing.
And, so Toby was a good dog. All the way to the end. And I'm glad he was ours for the fun times and the tough ones. The connection remains - somehow, some way. I'm sure I'll find out when it's my turn.
