She’s always there for me. No matter my mood or if skies are sunny or gray. She greets me with unconditional love – morning, noon and night. No questions asked. She instinctively knows when I’m sad and how to make me feel better.
Her saucer-like ebony eyes could melt an iceberg. Plus, she gives the best kisses ever.
I must confess, I have two girlfriends. One has two legs, the other four.
They both had me at “woof.”
The good news is my two-legged partner Rebecca and I share in this canine love fest.
Born May 2, 2008, the object of our mutual affection is Madison, a mostly white Havanese breed (yes, as in Havana, Cuba), which is a mighty mix of Bichon and Maltese. During her first year, Madison sported a brownish left ear and matching smudge on her lower back which resembled a semi-colon. At least to me.
We call her “Maddie,” unless she’s incessantly barking at an intruder, such as the poor UPS guy, whom she’s seen approach our house a thousand times from her stair-top perch, yet still greets with teeth-bearing snarls. That’s when she’s known as “Dammit Bad-Girl Madison,” double exclamation point.
Now 10, her brownish markings have faded to creamy beige. But our 12-pound bundle of joy has maintained her girlish figure and still has plenty of puppy pep. Maddie never met a squirrel not worth chasing.
For some reason, growing up on Detroit’s east side, I never had pets, other than a bunny and a goldfish. That demonic white rabbit Pinky bit me on Easter Sunday and was farmed out before May Day. Sunkist orange, wide-eyed Goldie had depth perception issues, apparently not realizing round fish bowls had walls.
But you can’t play K-9 Mini-Kannon ball fetch with a blind goldfish. Or take a high-strung rabbit for a walk with sniffs at every dried-up piddle spot.
Dogs fill your heart. And some say they actually make it stronger. Studies even link having a canine companion to lowering blood pressure, reducing cholesterol and decreasing triglyceride levels, which contribute to overall cardiovascular health.
Clearly, as I approach my May 29 mitral valve repair surgery at the University of Michigan Hospital in Ann Arbor, it is apparent that I should have had dogs much earlier in my life.
But I digress.
In 2007, my favorite author Anna Quindlen wrote about her beloved black Labrador retriever, Beau, in her book, Good Dog. Stay.
“The life of a good dog is like the life of a good person, only shorter and more compressed,” the Pulitzer Prize-winning Quindlen wrote.
With her trademark wisdom and humor, the author reflected on how her life had unfolded in tandem with Beau’s, and shared some of the lessons she learned by watching him, including:
- Roll with the punches.
- Take things as they come.
- Measure yourself not in terms of the past or the future but of the present.
- Raise your nose in the air from time to time and, at least metaphorically, holler, “I smell bacon!”
“In a world that seems so uncertain, in lives that seem sometimes to ricochet from challenge to upheaval and back again, a dog can be counted on in a way that’s true of little else,” she wrote.
There’s no question that my devoted and cherished Maddie has given me valuable life lessons in the last decade. I’m counting on her to keep them coming.
Because sometimes an old dog can teach us new tricks.
(Copyright 2018)
