Those of us who have been lucky enough to own and grow up with dogs, know just how much joy they bring to us, and how they change our lives. By “dogs”, of course, I mean REAL dogs – not those stupid little fluffballs that look like animated cotton balls, or mutated rats that can fit in a woman’s handbag. In other words, we are talking about dogs that can bite and bark.
One such dog was Sherpa, who belonged to a chap named Jamie Larder. He lives somewhere in Cornwall, PommieBastardLande. I have been following his channel for a couple of years now. He built up quite a sizeable following posting videos of his trips across the UK with his loyal “huskamute”.
Here are a few examples of those videos, which made for really rather compelling viewing, as they showed off the real people of Ingerland – who, despite their MANY and manifest failings, especially their utterly cucked and cowardly attitude toward… well, everything uncomfortable, are genuinely good and decent. They also showed off the joys of walking around with a wolf-sized fur-missile:
Sherpa was with him for over 13 years – a grand old age for a doggo, especially a large one. If you watched their videos over the past year or so, you could see how he started a long, slow decline about 6 months ago, and eventually became just a shadow of his former self:
It turns out, there was a cancer of some kind, eating him out from the inside. And, earlier this week, he died.
Well, technically, he was taken to the vet and they put him down.
The exact manner of his death does not matter, though. What matters, is the manner of his life. And the fact is, Sherpa lived a full, happy, and wonderful one – bringing happiness wherever he went, chatting up random strangers, and making children squeal with delight.
That is one part of a dog’s purpose – to bring companionship and happiness to their people.
It is a simple truism that we humans do not deserve dogs. We give them a (usually sizeable) fraction of our lives – and in exchange, they give us their WHOLE lives. They give us unconditional love, affection, joy, and great memories. They protect us, watch over our children as their own, and zealously guard our homes.
(Note that fru-fru little fluffballs cannot do this, which is why I do not count them as “dogs”. Many would argue that golden retrievers do not do this either – I can personally attest this is not true. I grew up with a labrador/golden retriever mix, up until the time I was 10, and he was EXTREMELY hostile to strangers who approached me when I was a kid. He didn’t bark or growl – he just stood and bared his fangs.)
With respect to that point about unconditional love – I had a bad argument with a relative a few months ago, after she did something REALLY stupid, and in the course of that rather fractious and bad-tempered discussion, we got onto the subject of unconditional love. I pointed out that, if you want unconditional love, you should get a dog. She said this is nonsense – dogs only love people who feed them.
But this is idiotic. You could feed a hungry and depressed person for YEARS, and the moment that person no longer needs you, it is better than even money that he or she will shake you off and move on without a second thought, and will never acknowledge your kindness and decency.
Anyone who has ever fed a stray dog, on the other hand, knows and understands that if you feed a hungry and lonely dog for a few days, it will remember you for the rest of its life.
Dogs are a reminder to us as humans, about what it really means to be happy. They love the simple things – food, treats, sunshine, walking outdoors. They only want to be around their families.
These are the things which actually MATTER – not the size of your bank account, nor the cost of your car, nor the hotness of your trophy wife. Dogs do not care about ANY of that.
Death comes for them, much sooner (relatively speaking) than it does for us. And the sad truth is that, the bigger the doggo, the sooner he dies. Having a dog means thousands of days (if you are lucky) of joy and laughter – followed by days or weeks of misery, and one day of absolutely wretched grief.
This is the simple nature of things. All of us will die one day. Those of us not fated to die a warrior’s death, in defence of our lands, homes, and families, will die as old men – our once-great strength will wither, our bodies will weaken, and our sight and minds will dim. Someday, we will pass from this Earth.
If, perhaps, we lived well, with virtue, respect, honesty, decency, compassion, and strength of character, we will be mourned by those we leave behind. And if we are fortunate enough to father children, we will have done well if we leave, having passed on those same values to the next generation.
And that is the other part of a dog’s purpose – to remind us what really matters, and to remind us what it means to live well.
On a theological note, I have heard and seen it written that God created Man, so He would not be alone. Perhaps this is true – after all, we know from the Bible that angels are profoundly different in nature and responsibility than humans are. God then created Woman, so that Man would not be alone – and look where that got us…
Be that as it may… could it be that God also created dog, so that Man would understand what it means to love unconditionally, and would comprehend how to care for the world around him with compassion and respect?
People like me, who love dogs – yet again, REAL dogs – do believe that good doggos all go to Heaven. This is assuredly theologically suspect, to say the least – the Bible says nothing about it. But it seems to me, as a human, that Heaven just wouldn’t make sense without dogs.
If you ever want to stop being depressed or angry with life, get a dog, particularly a malamute or a golden retriever or an Alsatian, and let it teach you how to be a happy person.
9 Comments
It’s a cruel joke that real dogs live such short lives while Chihuahuas are effectively immortal.
I figure since heaven has horses(Elijah being taken up by angels in flaming chariots, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse), it only makes sense for dogs to be there too.
I know, the rats live on forever and ever…they are the Soros/Kissinger of the “dog” world. But there is good news concerning Chihuahuas, if you need to off one package it in a box and sent it to the right Mexican villages, they raise em for meat!
Horses in Heaven based on Elijah is a strong data point.
Randy Alcorn stakes out two chapters to the exploration of animals, pets past and future in his book Heaven. Fully recommend the book. You can read the chapters separately, its really a collection of essays assembled into chapters. Relentless scripture citation and a light writers tone make it easily managed yet full of wisdom.
https://www.epm.org/store/product/heaven/
A Catholic discussion on this if dogs and animals go to heaven
https://youtu.be/-NdVVbI1OS0?si=X-enh1Z18Tekvh72
Wretched grief barely describes it. I had a lab/shepherd, Jethro, best dog in the world. Got a female lab mix as his crazy girlfriend. I had to put him down two weeks after the wife left.
After he died in my lap, I left the vet numb. That lasted until night where it hit me and I found myself on my knees weeping.
Didn’t do that about the wife.
A week or so later, I heard anguished howling. Went out to find Aria, the female, in front of Jets crate laying down howling. When I removed the crate she spend weeks sleeping in front of where it was.
The girl got me past the next two months and I got her a new guy. They are incredible at soul healing.
Totally stole this from a Vox commenter (when he had comments) whose name I can’t remember:
If it can stand up inside of a microwave, then it is not a dog. It is some kind of rodent.
Dogs are great, but lousy dog owners enrage me like nothing else, and since dog ownership has gone through the roof in the last 30 years (when I was a kid in the 80’s and 90’s, maybe every 5th friend of mine owned a dog; nowadays it seems like 2 out of every 3 American households has one), there are WAY more terrible owners. This manifests itself with things like waste left on public trails, barking that goes on all night, and at worst attacks on other dogs and people. My FOF response kicks in every time we’re out walking with my son and I see some skinny hippie chick walking a dog that’s bigger than she is.
Finally, if i had the infinity gauntlet, I would snap every single pit bull out of existence, and nothing of value would be lost.
you lead off being mad at lousy owners, then you want to kill all pit bulls.
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pit bulls are wonderful dogs, as long as the owner isn’t a fvcking moron @$$hole. if you’ve got an owner teaching the dog to be hyper-aggressive, yes, the pit is probably one of the most dangerous dogs on the planet for him to own. but there are plenty of vicious dogs that aren’t pits, and there are a lot of breeds that are damn near as ( some even more ) dangerous than a pit bull if raised improperly.
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i’ve never owned a pit, but i’ve met more than a few of them that are the most affectionate and friendly animals i’ve ever met in my life. ie – i’m a perfect stranger to them and they have precisely zero threat response to me.
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otoh, if a pit attacked me off of it’s property i would do everything i could to kill that dog. just as i would with any other breed of dog that thought that attacking a grown man was a good idea.
Dogs are the best! I have been lucky to have dogs in my life for 40+ years. I have loved every moment, except the last day with them. We do not deserve them, because they give us everything in their short lives. When our last dog left us, I was depressed for months. She was the most loving Chocolate Lab. She was the surrogate mama to our kids and their protectoress. I still miss her to this day. Our current lovable beast, who I affectionately call “Baby Wolfdog”, is a working line German Shepherd. He takes protecting us as a 24/7365 day career. He is getting up in years, and I am enjoying him each day even more. He is a great friend, and we try to give him the best dog life. I know that day is coming, and I will have much dust in my eyes when that day comes. So, I will enjoy the present, because he is a present.
I adopted my old girl, Murphy, three years ago, when she was eight. She’s now eleven. No idea why her original owner gave her up, but it’s his loss, and her (and my) gain. We immediately bonded, and I love that chunk.
Murphy is a bull terrier. Not a breed I was considering at all, but she is wonderful. She’s slowing down a bit in her dotage, but she still gets the “zoomies” at night and loves to fall asleep at my feet while I write.
We truly do not deserve dogs. They are companions with us through thick and thin.