7 Life Lessons I Learned from Oscar

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Some of you may know that my long-time companion and friend, Oscar, recently departed from this world. Oscar was our family dog whom we adopted 12 years ago when he was nearly 3 years old. The day he died was really tough for our family and hit us all extremely hard. I held his head in my lap and stroked the soft fur on his head as my wife, kids, their significant others, and even my sister and her husband (all of whom he also adored) gathered around as he drew his last breath. It was truly heart-wrenching. Over the course of his time with us, Oscar had showered us with immense love, and in return, we cherished him dearly.? It was only fitting and appropriate that we were all there to ease his transition, show him our love in return, and of course comfort one another in our personal grief.

Throughout his life, Oscar was practically glued to my side, accompanying me everywhere, showing a reluctance to be separated from me. He seamlessly integrated into my daily routine, from the moment I woke up until bedtime, when he would sleep at the bedside just a few feet away, where I could hear him snoring or experiencing doggy dreams. It feels incredibly strange now to navigate through a day without his constant presence by my side. Our usual routine of mutual care and companionship has abruptly and finally come to an end. It's as if the lyrics of the 80’s song "Always Something There to Remind Me" are constantly playing in my head. His leash, his multiple dog beds scattered throughout the house, his water and food bowl, the numerous Kong Balls both indoors and outdoors, his treats, and his cancer medicine—all serve as poignant reminders of his absence. Even the familiar routines, like letting him out after a long conference call or giving him a treat at the end of a call, or his eager anticipation for pets whenever he heard the swish of an email being sent, now evoke bittersweet memories. The list of reminders seems endless, as there is always something there to remind me of him.

It's been approximately three weeks since we said our farewells to our beloved old friend. While the ache of his absence remains palpable, this period of time has allowed me to contemplate the invaluable lessons imparted by a resilient rescue dog who had faced abandonment twice before finding his way to our home.?

Oscar, our quintessential mutt, possessed a genetic heritage as diverse as the doggie United Nations: a blend of 51% Brittany, 28.1% Pit Bull Terrier, 11.5% Eskimo Dog, and 8.6% Siberian Husky, as revealed by a doggie DNA test gifted to us by our kids a few years ago. Delving into his family tree and genetic makeup was fascinating, but even more remarkable was the depth of wisdom he shared with us despite his tumultuous past as a two-time ex-convict of the canine world.

1) "Wag more, Bark Less" – Though not an original tagline (I believe I snagged it from a t-shirt, bumper sticker, or perhaps even a coffee mug, or maybe all three), it resonates perfectly! Oscar was selective about his barks, reserving them for specific occasions. Remarkably, when my then 9-year-old daughter and I first encountered him at the shelter (she spotted him first, as she never lets me forget), he stood out as the only dog not barking incessantly. Despite his eagerness to greet us, not a single bark escaped him. His tail wagged so vigorously that his whole rear end wiggled—it was truly adorable to witness. Despite his checkered past of abandonment and a bit of a “rap sheet”, he exuded happiness and nothing remotely resembling the tough exterior typically associated with a dog that nobody wanted to keep.

As time passed, I noticed that Oscar barked with purpose—he had a unique way of communicating through his intentional barks. Eventually, I swear I became fluent in Oscar! I could discern whether he wanted water or food, when he needed to go out or even if he had to do #1 or #2. I could even tell when he anticipated the arrival of one of his regular peeps, like my wife, his Aunt Marj, or the pending approach of his favorite mail carrier at the mailbox for a treat. He signaled his desire to accompany me in the car, and he also expressed his protective instincts through his special warning barks. Oscar never wasted his barks; he didn't bark just to hear himself but did so with intentionality, accompanied by the abundant tail and, of course, ample butt-wagging. He rarely complained or barked for unnecessary attention. He taught me the value of being slow to speak, of being observant and quiet, of listening more and using fewer words—but ensuring that the words spoken carried weight. Moreover, he encouraged me to express gratitude and happiness more frequently; in essence, to wag more and bark less! If only I had a tail!

2) "Love the One You're With!" Yet another familiar sentiment, borrowed from the legendary Steven Stills of Crosby Stills and Nash (a personal favorite of mine).?

While it's undeniable that I was Oscar's primary companion, spending the most time with him and being the one in charge of treats, managing the Chewy account, and often bending the rules for him, Oscar had a special love for each member of our family and our extended circle of friends who frequented our home. He tailored his affection to each individual, forming a unique bond with everyone he encountered. Oscar had an innate understanding of how to express love in a way that resonated with each person. For instance, my mother-in-law, who initially claimed not to be a dog person, quickly became enamored with Oscar. However, Oscar recognized that jumping up on her and licking her wasn't her preferred form of affection by any means. Instead, he would approach her calmly for a pat on the head before moving on to greet the next person in a tailored way that made that person feel loved.?

Oscar had a distinct routine with each individual, demonstrating his ability to adapt and be fully present in their company. Some received the affectionate licks they desired, while others found him contentedly lying at their feet, patiently waiting for an opportunity to snuggle by the fire—something he and my daughter often enjoyed together. Oscar taught me the importance of being fully present with others and expressing love in a way that they can truly feel and understand. Whether he learned about love languages from a book or authored it himself remains a mystery. Still, regardless, he embodied the profound message of being present and loving deeply and unconditionally, no matter who you're with.

He loved to give kisses? - especially when he sensed you needed them!

3) “Give Peace a Chance”! Here I am, borrowing words from another personal favorite singer, songwriter,? John Lennon. Yet, Oscar himself was a remarkable peacemaker! Whether he was a reincarnated hippie from the '60s remains uncertain, but what is certain was his innate ability to foster peace. With his DNA perhaps hinting toward a herding breed, Oscar became the ultimate mediator in our bustling household with five energetic kids, four of them boys running around like rambunctious animals testing the boundaries. Whenever disputes arose or the kids engaged in spirited sparring, Oscar would intercede without fail. He reserved his barks for moments of intense purpose, positioning himself squarely between the feuding parties, discerning the aggressor with uncanny accuracy. His unwavering disapproval of discord was tangible—he seemed to convey, "Return to your corner, cease your barking, and embrace the joy of wagging your tail, as I've shown you." Without exception, Oscar championed the cause of peace. On occasions when I needed to raise my voice and correct one of our children, Oscar would stand between me and the recalcitrant child, serving as a steadfast mediator of sorts. It was as if he were saying, "Step back, Dad. You may utter words you'll later regret or that could land the kid in long-time therapy. Let's give peace a chance."? Indeed, Oscar succeeded in fostering an increased level of harmony for us all and gave us the opportunity to hit our own personal pause buttons in the midst of our momentary embroilment.

He Must Have Been a Hippie from the 60’s

4) Forgive, Forget, and Move On! This phrase could easily serve as a catchy song title, though I'm not entirely sure if it's already found its way onto a bumper sticker, coffee cup or flowery plaque at the Cracker Barrel. Regardless, Oscar embodied this mantra wholeheartedly; his love knew no bounds, and he seemed incapable of holding onto resentment. His devotion to those he loved transcended any flaws or mistakes, viewing each person as their best self. Oscar possessed a remarkable ability to see beyond outward behavior, peering directly into the heart of individuals to understand them completely. He embraced them, flaws and all, and even in moments of tension, correction or doggie meatballs being withheld, he exemplified forgiveness, forgetting, and moving forward. His love remained unwavering, regardless of circumstances.?

Oscar taught me the futility of holding grudges, reminding me that life is too short to harbor anger or bitterness from the past. While many struggle to either forgive or forget, Oscar effortlessly managed to do both. Though human nature may make forgetting difficult, our capacity for love enables us to forgive. I once came across a plaque in a Hallmark store bearing the quote: "There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love," attributed to Bryant H. McGill, founder of SimpleReminders.com. So, whether it's forgiving, forgetting, and simply moving forward, Oscar's example encourages us to embrace forgiveness as a vital component of love.

5) "It's all About the Journey, not the Destination." I believe the original quote, "Life is a journey, not a destination," is attributed to the American Poet Ralph Waldo Emerson—makes me wonder if he had a canine companion!?

Oscar adored car rides, especially in Clark the RV! With just a simple prompt like "do youuuuuuu?" he would eagerly spring into action, waiting by the door and emitting a purposeful bark or two, as if to say, "Absolutely! Let's go!" He was always eager, willing, and ready for an adventure. The destination never mattered, nor did the duration of the journey or the route we took. He was simply content being with those he loved along the way. Oscar relished the experience of sticking his aging yet still “puppy face” (as I called it right to the end) out the window, tongue flapping in the wind. His grateful gaze would often meet mine, silently expressing, "Thanks, Dad—I'm having a blast!" By the end, Oscar had marked his territory in nearly 23 states, leaving his scent on countless trees and fire hydrants and street poles from New Jersey to Florida, through Texas, and all the way to Las Vegas! Through Oscar, we have learned to appreciate the journey of life and to ease the fixation on reaching the final destination. While my journey may not involve marking trees and various uprights across multiple states, it does entail soaking in the scenery and local cultures of the towns, cities, and communities we pass through, all while taking advantage of open windows (weather permitting) and great tunes on the stereo at optimal volume. It's about embracing the learning experiences, both the highs and the lows, mostly because I'm surrounded by the ones I love. Oscar not only cherished the journey but also relished riding alongside his beloved humans. It was only fitting that on his final day with us, we took a ride to McDonald's where my wife and I treated him to a 6-piece McNugget, followed by a stop at Starbucks for a "Pup Cup." Though he was too weary and in pain to stick his head out of the window, he still seemed to find joy in the journey and he even got to ride shotgun with my wife relegated to the back seat as a kind gesture to Oscar in giving him the full experience of what was to be his final ride!

He LOVED his car rides!?

6) “Everybody Hurts”: Offer solace to those who are sad or hurting." R.E.M. captured this sentiment beautifully in their song "Everybody Hurts" with lyrics like, "Well, everybody hurts sometimes, Everybody cries, Everybody hurts, sometimes."?

Oscar had an innate sense for when I or any of his loved ones were feeling down. He would linger longer with that person, staying close and ignoring the usual distractions like the doorbell or the mail carrier's arrival. You could see him absorbing your pain, simply being there to provide comfort. No judgment, no attempts to solve the problem, no unsolicited advice, and certainly no comparisons of experiences. Just a reassuring presence, whether it was resting his head on your lap or lying by your side, perhaps even offering gentle licks to wipe away tears. He instinctively knew when someone needed him, and his unwavering love was evident in those moments. It was truly heartwarming to have him by my side during tough times or periods of significant stress. He taught me the value of simply being present, of listening without rushing to fix things or minimizing someone's pain with comparisons of your own experience. Everybody experiences pain—offer them comfort through your presence, simple acts of kindness, and without judgment. While I wouldn't recommend licking anyone's tears unless you're seeking a restraining order, offering a shoulder to cry on is akin to Oscar's comforting presence beside you!

7) Learn from Your Errors and Become Better! Henry Ford once said, "The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing." Oscar was curious and always open to trying new things, but some of these endeavors, especially when we first brought him home and he was learning the rules, led to a fair number of timeouts; afterall he was an ex-con! Our property, unfenced and adjacent to a busy road, posed a risk. Initially, Oscar tested boundaries by wandering off. I kept a close eye on him, following him like a sleuth to see how he would react. As he neared the boundary I would promptly call him authoritatively and guide him back to the ponderosa. To drive the point home, I took action. Initially, I issued a stern warning, channeling my best Barry White-inspired deep voice, outlining the boundaries. Then came Oscar's punishment: a timeout—20 minutes of solitary confinement in our scenic sunroom with closed doors. This was always a heart-wrenching moment for me as he hated when he was in trouble and abhorred being confined away from his beloved people. Despite resembling a luxury doggie white-collar crime treatment, this was our way of enforcing the lesson.There was concern he might repeat the mistake, but he rarely did. He was determined to avoid another timeout or miss out on treats, both of which he loathed. From that moment on, he understood the seriousness, learning to respect the boundaries. We never had further issues with him straying. While he needed some adjustment to boundaries, he grasped our intent when we firmly said "no" (Barry White style of course) near any boundary of the yard. He consistently avoided repeating errors that caused trouble or upset his loved ones.?

Oscar's ability to learn from his mistakes was a remarkable reminder of life's lessons. While humans may often require repeated attempts to learn and sometimes prioritize being right over being repentant, Oscar was not like that. He didn’t possess an ego to bruise; he simply aimed to learn and become a better version of his doggy self, all so he could live in peace, harmony, and love with his people, and, oh yes, enjoy his daily allotment of doggy meatballs while avoiding a timeout. He instilled the lesson of not only evading future trouble but also taking responsibility for your actions, embracing the consequences, showing remorse, and then returning to wagging your tail, all while ensuring you don't make the same mistake again. This isn't just about personal improvement; it's about positively influencing the relationships around you as well!

You see, Oscar's wisdom extended far beyond these 7 lessons, yet these are the ones I found most impactful. I once saw a bumper sticker in the shape of a paw print that posed a simple question: "who saved who?"—how profound. While we rescued Oscar from that shelter after a rough start for him, I firmly believe that he was meant to be with us and that he actually saved us in return! It may sound strange, but he truly enriched our family life. He embodied lessons of love, humility, empathy, compassion, loyalty, forgiveness, and joy. I sometimes wonder if all of these amazing traits are why “dog” is “God” spelled backwards.

Some have suggested to me that I may not want another dog after experiencing the loss of Oscar—after all, their lives are short and their departure just breaks your heart; why would you do that to yourself again? However, having experienced such deep love, I find myself yearning to continue the journey of love and experiencing once again the canine wisdom that is surely from above. Oscar expanded our hearts, leaving behind cherished memories, and he even paved the way for us by adding extra room in our hearts to welcome another dog into our lives in the future, whenever that may be. But one thing is absolutely certain: there will never be another quite like Oscar, his lessons will endure forever and he shall forever remain in our hearts.?

Rest easy, my dear boy, my loyal and faithful friend. Thank you for the invaluable lessons you taught us and the boundless joy and peace you brought into our lives. I eagerly await the day when we're reunited, and I can once again witness your puppy face, your entire backside wagging with exuberance, and hear your well-intentioned bark that says, "Hi Dad, I've missed you. I'm so happy you're finally home!"