I have to confess, I have never owned a dog.
Growing up, we had dogs but they weren’t pets. They guarded our home. They’re names: Chipper, Parseghan, Holmes. They protected us but lived their lives on a length of rope in the driveway and could only dream of a real dog’s life.
I wish we had taken them on walks in the woods, let them run free and even poke their heads in the house now and then and sleep indoors all winter.
I wish your dogs could have this to say about their master, as poet Billy Collins wrote in his poem, “A Dog on His Master”…
“As young as I look,
I am growing older faster than he,
seven to one
is the ratio they tend to say.
Whatever the number,
I will pass him one day
and take the lead
the way I do on our walks in the woods.
And if this ever manages
to cross his mind,
it would be the sweetest
shadow I have ever cast on snow or grass.”