The Dogs of Peace
On weekdays, I go over to Arbuckle Park and walk the mile long paved trail. It is heavily wooded and it crosses White Lick Creek at two places. It is also a busy walking trail, and is much used by dog owners. Many, like myself walk on or about the same time every morning, and I get to know their dogs. They come in a wide variety. There are large furry Alsatians and Malamutes, even and an occasional blue-eyed Husky. Other canine walkers include a big and friendly Sheepdoodle, a German Shepherd, and a friendly Pug. Most are just mutts of unknown pedigree. One man walks three small rescue dogs, one of which gets around nicely on only three legs. Another is training his dog not to get excited and jump up on strangers.
Dogs remind me of toddlers. They are so excited about the world around them. Toddlers will run over to the side of the trail to pick up a rock, a leaf, or a twig. They examine it intently from every angle, sometimes taking the treasure with them out of the sheer joy of discovery. In the same way, dogs run from bush to bush, tree to tree sniffing and exploring. They excitedly chase squirrels that they can never catch, jumping at trees they cannot climb.
Most dogs will come over to sniff me and check me out. Shy dog did not. If I spoke to him, he would look off into the woods as if seeing something, but he was obviously just avoiding eye contact. A small furry dog named Gus would also avoid me. If he saw me coming, he would move to the other side of his owner. He acted as if he didn’t like me, unless there was another dog around. The minute another dog approached me to be petted, he would come over and interpose himself between me and the other dog, sniffing and licking my hands like I was his long lost best friend.
Then there was Toby. The first time I saw Toby, he spotted me from afar, and strained at his leash to come up and be petted. We were instant friends. Toby was a shaggy fellow most of the time, and was almost unrecognizable if he had a haircut. He always came up to be petted, wagging his tail excitedly. Over time, I noticed that he began to move more slowly. Ultimately, the day came when he seemed to not even recognize me. Eventually, his owner told me that he was now both deaf and blind. Now, he would walk the trail slowly sniffing the vegetation on each side. Inevitably the day came when I no longer say Toby or his owner on the trail.
Toby left an impression. For a while, I had a friend. Dogs teach us. Because their lives are shorter than ours, they teach us the transience of our existence. They teach us to see, feel, and find joy in our surroundings. They teach us to be a friend. Nothing in physical existence lasts forever. Be a friend. Although there is nothing like having an old friend, the amount of time available for the friendship is not what matters.
It doesn’t matter if you catch the squirrel or not. What matters is that you enjoyed it. It does not matter how long friendships last, just be a friend to the people you come into contact with. Perhaps you may make a lasting imprint of love and friendship when you least expect it.