Gone to Dogs: Canine companion’s importance to mom

Be Blissful

I decided that since I’m now a teacher in my late 30’s (oh yikes it was painful to type that), it’s time I had a real and true will. I sat down to start outlining what I wanted to go where, all the while being observed by my son.

After a fair amount of time, he asked, “What do you think heaven is like?”

You know those times you answer, but you don’t even feel like you thought about the answer, and the words just tumble out? I had one of those moments.

“If I go to heaven, I sincerely hope that all the dogs from my life are waiting for me at the gates. Tails wagging and happy to see me. That would be amazing.”

And then I burst out crying because the thought of seeing all of my childhood dogs, as well as my dogs from my adult life, was overwhelming. Plus I’m THAT person. Go to a party and nope, don’t talk to the people – but definitely make friends with the hosts dog.

I have also found as I get older that when I go out and do things, there is most certainly a point where I think, “I want to go home. I miss my dog.”

And in all honesty, my dog is a little terrible (I say that with absolute love). My stinky, noisy, tooty little Pug loves to eat tissues and toothpicks. Her favorite activity is rolling in the grossest thing she can find. Last year on the 100th day of school I brought her in. You were supposed to bring 100 of something, but I explained, “She’s probably eaten 100 crayons. Or 100 legos.”

She’s a little trash monster. But she’s my trash monster. (Or am I her stopper-of-trash-eating? Who owns whom?)

I lost my 14 year old cat last spring, and while I do miss him sitting on any surface he deemed was his to sit, and lord over us, judging us, I do have to admit that I’m honestly a dog person. My little pug seems to think I’m the greatest thing on the planet. And isn’t it nice to have someone (or something?) think that?

Especially now that we are rounding into those tween-ager years where Mom isn’t as great as she once was.

There is my little dog, who currently lays sprawled across my lap right now, that thinks I’m the bees knees and that just makes my heart happy. In this never ending winter blizzard we see to be living in, I’m thankful for every positive.

In my will, I set aside money to go to the Humane Society, so that those puppers can be taken care of too. (I wish I were super wealthy and could have a dog rescue ranch and I’d save ALL THE DOGS! Not feasible, I know, but I’d like to save them all!)

The napping, snoring, loud little pug … I hope you know how lucky you are. I know I am.

Heather French is an English teacher, purveyor of homework and reading. She’s also a mom, Amazon aficionado, fiancé, shoe collector, avid reader, sun bather, and loves dogs.