My Companion and I spend our days together. If we were an atom, I would be a proton and he would be an electron. He does not understand the concept of personal space. He does not know that I don’t need to have his arm on my leg as I sit on the couch. He does not know that the whole point of a king-size bed is that one can sleep without touching another, and that I don’t really enjoy his hot body pressed against mine. He cannot fathom why I would want to hug someone besides him.
My companion doesn’t know that my favourite thing to do is write. He thinks its playing fetch. Or tug of war. He believes that life is always better when you stop and scratch the ones you love.
And you know, he’s right. There is nothing better than listening to his little feet scrabble across the floor when I say ‘Where’s your toy?” Than watching him dance when I say the word ‘walk’. Than being looked at adoringly. Hopefully. Excitedly.
I can count on him to make me laugh. To make my heart squeeze with love. To show up when I start peeling carrots.
I was never a dog person. Had no pets in my childhood. But this little 8 pound ball of fur found us. He needed some humans that would stop the cycle of giving him away. He’d been in five homes in his year and a half on this earth, and he needed a forever home. We took him in. I found out that we needed him too.
There is much to be said for the love of a pet, and if you’ve never had one, you’ll never get it. Kind of like kids, I guess. I taught him to sit, and he taught me to chill out and enjoy the simple things. I taught him to roll over. He taught me about forgiveness. Funny that I could learn something from an entity with a brain the size of a plum, but there you go. Life is mysterious and complicated and simple, all at the same time.
There are many ways to bring love into this world, and he has shown me one more. He has expanded my heart. And if you’re not an animal lover, all I can say is don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.