The Life and Times...of a Dog

"When the Man waked up he said,
'What is Wild Dog doing here?'
And the Woman said,
'His name is not Wild Dog any more,
but the First Friend,
because he will be our friend
for always and always and always.'"
- Rudyard Kipling

I feel fur brush against skin, a comingling of human and animal hair. The couch reverberates with warm breathy snores, disrupted by a gentle oomph and contented sigh accentuated by the occasional warm sleepy head nudge. Her presence is warming in more ways than the heavy weight she pushes against me trying to get as close as humanly possible.

I get nostalgic this time of year; it’s her birthday and the anniversary of my awakening. Sounds colossal describing our beginnings this way - the pure simplicity of need that attaches us in more ways than not. Need, is such a heavy handed word. We two souls, hers and mine, are to each other a kindred friendship made to last a lifetime.

On December 12th, 2006, Pickles entered my life for the first time and wove her spell.

What’s so special about her? Besides the fact she’s a Katrina survivor or quite literally my ears? She’s the embodiment of compassion and life. For those who don’t know our story - I’m deaf and she’s my working dog. Trust me, I didn’t realize the possibilities either until a thing called need, pointed me in her direction. Nor did I understand, sometimes gifts of spirit arrive in the most unexpected guise.

Where did we (dog and woman) begin? - In stillness. It’s no secret I loathed my decent into silence. Hatred appropiately defines my demeanor in those days. So much so, I locked myself away from the world at large. To me going deaf had been a death of sorts and I mourned the loss of my hearing, the life I knew…and then along came Pickles. She was the animal doppelganger to my personality. She’d lost everything in Katrina, her home, her forever family…yet…she stood before me grinning as only a dog can and defied the rules of my closed existence with a challenge in her eyes to be more than my deafness.

Who I am today, started with her: The writer who learned to hear with her eyes. The woman who she (Pickles) taught to dare the impossible, and best friend (to a creature thankfully not human). Never did I imagine the life lessons, such a loving, four legged creature would portray.

You can’t train a bond like ours. Training doesn’t teach a dog to sit beside your bed all night worried when you’re sick (I woke up one morning to a red eyed pup that hadn’t slept a wink, with her head nestled over the edge of the bed). Nor does training teach comfort, laughter, kindness, or any of the numerous daily life lessons that dog and woman alike share.

Like the holiday season itself, there is a hint of something more between us. So with great pleasure I wish you - Happy Birthday Pickles! I couldn’t ask for a more loyal friend and mischief maker.

To everyone else, I wish you all the beauty your hearts can hold, all the spirit and lessons of a dog named Pickles, and words a plenty from a writer who appreciates the small things. Happy Holidays! I’ll see you in the New Year.