Life’s Gentle Guides

As card-carrying Dog People, my wife and I – and now our son – have long held the belief that each dog is put into our lives for a specific reason, to fulfill a purpose, and to guide us gently through life’s challenges.

Then, when their work is done and they have perfectly fulfilled their promise, they leave this earth. It’s a sad occasion for us humans, as we are not privy to the Grand Plan. But deep down we know it’s time to say goodbye.

Today was one of those days. Sadie, our sweet, snuggly lab/pit/whatever mix became an angel before we could celebrate her 10th birthday. For the time being, we come home to an empty house, expecting to hear the sound of her toenails, desperately in need of trimming, clicking on the engineered hardwood floors as she trots up to greet us.

But hearing only silence.

Sadie was our second dog. Our first dog, Otto, was put into our lives shortly after my wife and I married. His primary job was to teach us how to be responsible parents. After all, we would be welcoming a child a few years later, and he needed to whip us into shape before that day came.

Sadie’s task was very different. The child that Otto prepared us for was growing up and becoming more independent. With each passing day, our son needed his parents just a little bit less. Our pride in seeing him grow came with more than ounce of heartbreak, as a silly little boy turned into a strong young man.

That sadness would have been more difficult to swallow were it not for Sadie.

From the very beginning, Sadie filled the need to have a baby in the family. She acted like one in every way a dog possibly can. She was afraid of loud noises. She hated riding in the car and getting wet. She was needy, crying uncontrollably when we left, and losing her shit (almost literally) in disbelief when we came home.

She loved to snuggle, kiss, and lay in the sun. And she loved to sleep in. Most dogs are four-legged alarm clocks, but Sadie would sleep until noon if we let her. Sometimes we did.

Most of all, Sadie filled the hole in our hearts left by our son’s insistence on growing up. We only had one child, so she was the spoiled baby of the family, happily absorbing our doting attention. Constantly by our side, begging for treats, or looking irresistibly photogenic.

She also had lessons for our son, teaching him about love, caring, gentleness, and in the end, loss. We all cried together as we grappled with the knowledge that it was time to let her go.

We live in a time when it’s so easy for families to fracture and split apart. While that was never likely to happen to us, Sadie was there to make damn sure of it. Our memories of her are like steel fibers wound into our family ties, making them all but unbreakable.

We like to think that Otto sent Sadie to us from heaven because he knew she was the type of dog we needed. Now we live in a silent, mournful home, darkened by a passing thunderstorm that Sadie would have hated. And we await the results of Otto’s and Sadie’s combined wisdom to send us a companion who will gently guide us through our next phase in life.

Good night, Sweet Sadie. We miss you and we will always, always love you.