What a Dog Can Teach Us

Blue was especially close to our daughter. Every Saturday morning, she’d lay right outside her bedroom door, patiently waiting, anticipating that weekend wake-up. When our daughter went off to college, Blue missed her deeply—you could see it in the way she waited by the door, and the way she absolutely exploded with excitement when she came home.

When Blue greeted someone, it wasn’t just a tail wag—it was a full-body celebration. Her entire back half would wiggle with happiness. We used to call her “Waddle Butt,” because her little body would sway from side to side with such joy that you couldn’t help but laugh.

At night, Blue didn’t just curl up at the foot of the bed—she slept in bed with my wife Annie and me. She always found her way right up between us. She belonged there, and we wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Her final year and a half was hard. Illness began to take its toll, and though her spirit stayed strong, her body grew weaker. When the time came, we did what so many pet owners must eventually do—we made the decision to let her go. We sat in the veterinarian’s office, holding her, crying together as a family. It was like losing a family member—because that’s exactly what it was.

But the love, memories, and hundreds of photos live on. And so does her impact.

We’ve Always Been a Dog Family

Blue wasn’t our first dog, and she won’t be our last. But she was special in ways that only those who’ve had that once-in-a-lifetime dog will understand. She had a little herder’s instinct—part Australian Cattle Dog—and when we first brought her home, she’d try to “gather” us into the same room. That was her way of keeping her people close. Of making sure her pack was safe.

She reminded us of what really matters. And she inspired this post—first written years ago—centered around a story that’s stayed with me ever since.

A Little Boy and His Irish Wolfhound

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. His family—Ron, Lisa, and their young son Shane—were heartbroken and hoping for a miracle.

After an exam, I gently told them there was nothing more that could be done. We arranged to perform the euthanasia at their home.

As I began the procedure, little Shane sat quietly, gently petting Belker. When it was over, we all sat for a while, reflecting on how sad it is that animal lives are so much shorter than ours.

Then Shane spoke.

“People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life—like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right? Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don’t have to stay as long.”

I’ve never heard a better explanation.

If a Dog Was the Teacher…

Here’s what we’d learn:

• When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
• Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
• Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
• Take naps.
• Stretch before rising.
• Run, romp, and play daily.
• Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
• Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
• On warm days, stop to lie on your back in the grass.
• On hot days, drink lots of water and find a shady tree.
• When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
• Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
• Be loyal.
• Never pretend to be something you’re not.
• If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
• When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close, and nuzzle them gently.

There comes a time in life when you learn to walk away from drama and surround yourself with what really matters—people who love you, make you laugh, and remind you of the good.

For us, Blue was one of those souls. She made the ordinary sacred and the everyday joyful.

Blue Enjoying a Stretch!

We still miss her. But we’re grateful—grateful that she chose us and grateful for every day she shared with our family.

If you’re processing the loss of a dog, this article from the AKC offers helpful insights and support.

How has a pet made your life better? Tell me in the comments below.