Let’s try love lessons of the canine variety
As I pulled into my driveway after work the other day, I paused. I waited. I watched. This is what I always do.
Because every day when she is outside at my arrival, without fail, my 7-year-old Boxer Monnie will slowly lift herself from her carefully-selected sunning spot in our yard, toss her head fervently side to side in a frothy shake that spatters the siding with spittle and then warmly welcome me home.
And when I say “welcome me,” I mean waltz leisurely back and forth, in front of my running car — several times. It’s like a little game we play.
Except that I hate this game. It makes me insanely anxious because I don’t want her in the habit of striding casually in front of moving cars, you see. Um, too late, obvi.
“Monica! Sweetie, you cannot walk in front of cars!” I will yell. It’s moot since she’s already beside me, as close as she can get to my car door, squinting up at me and waiting for me to exit.
Her tail is wagging so fast it looks like it might skyrocket off her backside and time warp straight up to the Starship Enterprise, you dig? #HappyGirl
That’s when it hits me: This little nightly romp is actually the absolute, living definition of unconditional love and trust.
My friends, everything we need to know in life, we can learn from our dogs. (Sorry, cat people.) I mean, Monnie’s life philosophy is basically:
All I care about is being with my pack. We can sit on the porch or hike through the woods or go for a ride in that big black box with wheels; I don’t care! I just want to be wherever my favorite humans are.
I’m not much into looks. You can be a humongous Irish Wolfhound or a teeny weeny Chihuahua. You can have lots of fur or none; it can be yellow or brown or white or spotted. Doesn’t matter to me. Just don’t scratch or bite me or my humans — even when I sniff you — and we’re cool,
I want to be friends. In fact, I love making new friends whether they walk on all four legs or even just two. But why would you do that when you can use all four?
Is it lunchtime?
I’m so happy whenever I see people. I’ve only met a few I don’t care for but I love, love, love most — primarily the ones at my house and especially if they’ve been gone a long time like, a week … or a day … or like, 14 seconds. I’m not really good with time. I just get lonely easily and I love them with all I’ve got.
I don’t like yelling or hitting. Loud noises and mean actions scare me; sometimes to the point where I have to nip at somebody so they’ll knock it off and I really don’t like doing that. BTW, I hate firecrackers. If I could bite them all, I would.
We can all understand each other if we really want to. I mean, I don’t speak human and my family doesn’t speak canine but we all get each other — ’cause we try.
I’m still hungry.
It’s all about the love we give, period. If you still don’t get it, just spell dog backward, Capisce? #LoveYouMonnie
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist who adores her dog … and her father-in-law Don who turns 85 today! #LoveYouDadK Check out her blog www.patriciakimerer.com.