Barney and Me

I miss my dog. I wonder how many people said that today. With the success of movies like Marley and me, and Hotel for Dogs, I am betting that it is a lot. I didn’t think I would be able to write about my dog. It seemed too soon—too sad. But, then I realized that I don’t have to talk about his death. His life in proportion to his death was so much more. I know I won’t shed any new light on the subject of animal love, but that is not enough to shut me up.

Everyone thinks that his or her dog is the best dog that ever slobbered. And it is true. We each have a unique bond with our dog that makes him or her best dog. We may not bring out the best in some people we know, but we make our dog happy as hell. And he brings out our best in return. How can you beat that deal?

I could meet ten dogs and think they were all great. The percentage of people from that same number would be quite low. They will have an agenda, some pretense—an angle. We’re people, after all—not dogs. I hate to insult us in this way, but it is true. Alas, if we could all get along by offering each other a raw hide chewy—wouldn’t it be a fine world? If people we meet would just shake their asses, we’d walk away happy too. I mean, if you like me --roll around in dead bird carcasses a little, will ya? Tell me how you feel man.

My dog Barney was sort of like Marley, but without the attitude. Don’t get me wrong. He could be immensely disgusting (like when he ate the kid’s diapers like they were filled with fillet mignon). And he could be shockingly destructive (like the time he chewed most of the door frames in the house. He suffered from the same fear of storms as Marley.) And he could be willful and undisciplined (like the time he jumped in a park lake to chase a duck). But, most of the time, he was just a sweet guy. A guy you’d like to hang out with.

He got increasingly grumpy in his old age, but that was because he did not feel well. And as a Fibromyalgia person-- I get that. I wish that I had known that he was sick. Of course, that is the worst part for us, and as feelings go, it’s about as bad as it gets.

But, I said I wasn’t going to talk about that. Now that I think about it, if you own or have owned a dog, there really isn’t anything I can say that you don’t already know. I just wanted to tell you a little bit about Barney and to say that I really miss him. And if we ever happen to meet—shake your ass a little. I’d appreciate it.