Entry 1: Why this exists and our hope

People seem able to love their dogs with an unabashed acceptance that they rarely demonstrate with family or friends. The dogs do not disappoint them, or if they do, the owners manage to forget about it quickly. I want to learn to love people like this, the way I love my dog, with pride and enthusiasm and a complete amnesia for faults. In short, to love others the way my dog loves me.
-Ann Patchett

Scooter and I were walking the neighborhood one day, when a dog many times his size came tearing down the street like an escaped convict. The behemoth creature suddenly came to a halt, fixed his eyes on Scooter, then slowly, deliberately started in our direction. Something primal in me snapped…

Scooter

I lowered my chin, flexed every muscle above my waist, and made a snarl sound that can only be described as werewolf-ish. Next, I surprised myself when I literally barked, with the fury and rage of all Scooter’s ancestors. Fortunately, the large dog tucked tail and left. At some point during all this, I scooped up all 9 lbs. of Scooter and tucked him under my arm without realizing it. He was calm and unfazed.

My bizarre reflex was not human. I was a member of a pack protecting a smaller, but equally important, pack member. A lot has been shared about the characteristics dogs pick up from humans, but what about the characteristics humans pick up from dogs? My wife, Erin, and I made Scooter a member of our family, but he also has made us members of a pack. We openly refer to our house as the den and to our bed (that the three of us share) as the pack-pillow. However, it’s not Scooter’s pack … it belongs to all of us.

Scooter has no need for the concepts of possession or comparison. He makes us closer without the need to put himself on a pedestal, and we’re all better for it. It’s funny so many companies and organizations pay for leadership development training, when maybe what they should focus on is company “pack development.”

Scooter knows a pack’s strength comes from its members, and that we’re stronger together. However his insight applies to more than just strength. We’re happier together, more loving, more present, and those are just a few of the characteristics Scooter has helped us learn and develop. He’s taught us that being better than someone else isn’t the point. The point is we’re better together.

Not long after the pandemic hit Michigan, we noticed that whenever Scooter played hard or had a long walk he had a slight limp afterwards. Wanting to be thorough, Erin called our vet for a checkup. Long-story-short, we went downstate for an MRI and found out Scooter has an inoperable nerve sheath tumor in his front-right leg. It will gradually grow, as will the pain it causes. There’s nothing we can do for Scooter except keep him as comfortable as we can for as long as we can. The two vets we talked to both said he probably has 6-12 months.

MRI day…

Our hearts broke. Everyday since receiving the news, our hearts re-break.

As much as it hurts, we know we will eventually want to stop life from happening to Scooter. What’s really crushing me though, is the thought of stopping Scooter from happening to life (ours or anyone else’s). I don’t want to stop the joy and love he gives, because he gives both endlessly, without complaint, and with complete amnesia for the faults of anyone he gives them to. Selfishly, I also feel I have so much more to learn from him. I know these are his circumstances, but I also know he deserves better than this. He’s a good boy.

Erin and I strive to find comfort in three facts. The first is we can contribute to Scooter’s happiness. The second is we can mitigate his pain. We intend to do both with the full force of our lives. We will keep him as happy as possible, and as pain-free as possible. Eventually, when he gets to the point he can’t be a happy dog, we’ll give him the gift of not needing to. The third fact we find solace in is that Scooter is blissfully unaware of everything except the present moment. He is a fountain of joy.

So here we are. I love my dog. I want to learn and remember as much as I can from him in the time our pack has left, so I’m going to try to keep track of it all here. It may be self-indulgent, especially in June of 2020. I apologize if anyone finds the fact I’m focused on this right now offensive. It’s not my intention to offend, but doing this will keep me from laying on the floor like a puddle of pathos all day just endlessly staring at my dog.

I also hope this will help anyone who’s been through, or is going through, something similar with a member of their pack. I hope anyone reading this who has a Scooter of their own will find things here that, through good times and bad, will help you cherish, value, soak up, breath in, appreciate and celebrate every moment you have with them.

I feel Scooter shares this hope. He loves people.