KNOW WORRIES #13 - "For All the Dogs I've Loved, and There Have Been Many"

So so many

So, I was in the middle of writing this column (literally this column), which was about my extensive history of moving (24 times btw) and all the associated stresses, when I had an epiphany. A blinding realization. An awakening, if you will. And the thing that I was awaked to, oddly enough, was that the column I was writing (again, literally this column) was not very good. In fact, it was bad. Like “True Detective season 2” bad. And as I had spent several hours on it already, I became less than thrilled about the whole process. Like “True Detective season 3” less than thrilled.

Now, the column was still pretty funny, but the writing just seemed, I don’t know... hollow. And any writer will tell you, that’s the worst feeling you can possibly have when you’re reading your own work. It’s like realizing you’re annoying but only because your kids take after you. In any case, it was looking like I had just wasted a few really good hours, which is annoying because time is money in that I don’t know how to spend either one of them responsibly.

So, I was pretty down about the whole situation. I was on the couch with my dog, Jack, at the time, and for those of you who don’t know Jack, he’s a very good boy. Like, pretty much the best boy.

Like, if you were to rank all the boys, he would almost for sure be at the top or very close to the top. Anyway, I’m sure Jack could tell I wasn’t exactly having a great time. I’m sure the neighbors could too, to be fair, but I digress. And so, Jack, in typical best boy ever fashion, went and got his most treasured possession (otherwise known as his stuffy, Lamby), and laid it right on my lap as if that would somehow magically make me feel better. And do you know what?

It did!

So forget that other column, we’re talking about dogs now! All the dogs. Every last one. All the good boys and girls. We’re doing dogs now, and I’ll be taking no questions. And you can all give Jack, who again, is the best boy, a nice big thank you for that. Because this one is for all the dogs I’ve loved, and there have been many.

I still consider dogs to be the mankind’s greatest achievement. Sure, you could make an argument for science or philosophy or coffee, I guess. But when’s the last time any of those loved you unconditionally besides coffee? And I want to be very clear that I’m not throwing any shade at cats by leaving them out of this conversation. I just don’t really consider them an “achievement,” necessarily, because I’m pretty sure we had nothing to do with the whole cat “situation.”

Now, I love cats. Most of the time. We have two of them, in fact. And they’re actually both really good cats. Most of the time. But let’s be real, there’s no way humans ever domesticated cats. If anything, they probably domesticated us, and now we’ve been just like building houses for them for tens of thousands of years. But the dog situation, that feels like more of a collaboration. Look, as a species, we’ve screwed up a lot of things. So many things. Like pretty much everything. But even a broken clock is right twice a day, and many years ago, one of us saw a wolf and was like, “omg I would love a cute scruffy little version of that,” and then we, as a species, got together and knocked that wish clean out of the fucking park.

And it’s a good thing we did too, because have you seen things? I mean, I don’t know if you’ve watched or heard or read or seen or experienced or felt or thought about anything lately, but it’s rough out there. And I love cats (most of the time), but we’re just not gonna survive this on cats alone. We need more. So lucky for us, we adopted a machine that eats stress and shits love and thinks we’re some combination of god and spouse and best friend and soulmate. And by the way, it’s adorable. Oh, and also it will protect you with its life. Oh, and don’t tell anyone, but if you rub its ears, that’s how you get the serotonin out.

That last part is completely true, by the way. Dogs are the most powerful medication I’ve ever been on. And that’s saying something. Like, my anxiety will march right through years of therapy, self-work, and a Wolf of Wall Street-level cocktail of meds, but it’s no match for several hundred milligrams of fancy crossy-paws. And if that doesn’t do the trick, one extra strength video of a dog carrying a stick that’s way too big for him probably will. And if you need more of a ‘timed release’ situation, then I recommend googling “sweaters for dogs,” because then all your targeted social media ads will be nothing but adorable little dogs in adorable little sweaters. And honestly, huge timeline upgrade. Relief that lasts all day.

And I’m not really joking about any of that, by the way. The dogs I’ve had in my life have always played a huge role in my well-being, which can be pretty spotty every now and then (most of the time) all the time. For those of you who don’t know, I’m actually only incredibly funny and dashing on social media. The rest of the time, I’m actually gay and autistic. Which is less funny.

Now, I didn’t really get most of that sorted out until I was well into my thirties (the gay and autistic part). So, I spent most of my life feeling very uncomfortable in my own skin, and most of my energy pretending to be somebody I wasn’t. It was less than ideal, but survival often is. And to this day, the only times I really remember feeling completely free to be myself, was when I was home and settled with a dog on my lap. Because dogs don’t judge. And dogs don’t ask questions. And dogs love you just the way you are, even if you don’t.

They’re like Samwise Gamgee or Chewbacca. They’re kind of a friend and kind of a bodyguard. They’re a little loud and they think about food a lot. Very furry feet, and loyal to a fault. They’re the side characters that everybody loves, because the main characters are all annoying little stress balls, and it’s enough already with them. And honestly, I don’t know where I’d be if it hadn’t been for my side characters. Because I’ve asked them all questions I didn’t want the answers to. And I’ve told them all things I wasn’t willing to admit yet. And sure, they never talked back very much, but that wasn’t really the point. Actually, I guess it kind of was, now that I think about it. So, this one’s for all the dogs I’ve loved, and there have been many…

My first dog was named Khaki. And it’s important that you know I did not pick that name. My father picked that name. It’s also important that you know it was the 80s, so that pretty much explains the name. Anyway, Khaki was a golden retriever, and he was also the best boy. Smart and gentle and happy as could be, and I couldn’t have asked for a better first dog. Then after Khaki we got Teddy, another Golden Retriever. And Teddy was, to put it delicately, an adorable nightmare. And from what I understand, that’s both kinds of Golden Retrievers.

Then after the goldens, we decided to step it up a notch and got two (2) mastiffs. We got them a year and a half apart, but still, that’s a lot of dog. At one time. For scale, I want you to think about the biggest dog you’ve ever seen, then I want you to add thirty pounds to it, then I want you to multiply that by 2 (two). And that is how much dog we had. At one time. It was like living with two extra humans who don’t pay rent and never leave any room for you on your own couch. Oh, and also they eat more than you. Oh, and also they hate stairs, so going anywhere is pretty much completely up to them. And, you know what? It was totally awesome, because they were two of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And also because you can sit in their lap. Which is a delightful change of pace.

And now we have our big scruffy rescue dog, Jack. Who is the best boy. But that’s really only a fraction of the dogs I’ve loved, because that’s not even counting all of my friends’ and relatives’ and neighbors’ and complete strangers’ dogs. Because I’ve loved them too. And it’s also entirely possible that I love your dog. That’s right. If I’ve ever seen a picture of your dog shining like a diamond in the endless swamp that is social media, then I’ve loved your dog too. And if you mustknow, I probably even said “aww look at the baby” real quiet-like.

And I’ve also loved dogs that didn’t even really exist. Dogs from films and TV shows and cartoons. Dogs from old photos and books and Disney movies. And I am so happy to report that absolutely every single one of those dogs lived all the way to the very end of every story. Period. And I’ll be taking no questions on that. The point is I’ve loved a lot of dogs, but that’s only because there’s a lot of dogs to love, and frankly, I see no other way around that problem. It’s just common sense.

It's been said we don’t deserve dogs. And maybe that’s true. Not all of us, anyway. Some of us definitely do, and some of us definitely don’t. I know I do, because gimme that face. But do we, as a species, deserve them? I don’t know. I know we need them, though. And I know they need us, so maybe that’s enough after all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have been gifted a Lamby, and I shall now reciprocate with walkies, as is tradition. And upon our return, there may even be snackies for everyone involved.

This one is for all the dogs I’ve loved, but it’s dedicated to one in particular. Her name is Maggie, and she was a sweet little thing, and sadly, she crossed the rainbow bridge last week. She was my mother-in-law’s, and she was a very good girl, and there was never a dog more cherished.