The Importance of Being Chewy

My mom called me yesterday and tearfully told me that Chewbacca, the family dog, was in bad shape. Apparently the dumb mutt had inhaled a sewing needle and it had, over time, worked its way into his brain. As had been explained to the family, the chances of finding a dog surgeon who could do the surgery were low and even if said surgeon could be found, it would likely cost thousands of dollars to perform. My parents are just getting back on their feet after my dad's unemployment and truth be told, they don't have thousands of dollars to spend on anything, let alone the dog.

The fact of the matter is, though, Chewy isn't just a dog. He's a part of the family.

My family has always had a strong connection to our dogs. As far back as I can remember we've never been more than a couple of weeks without at least 2 dogs in the house and they currently have three. When my wife and I finally moved out of campus housing into a real apartment complex I couldn't make it two months before I bought Ali. When I think back on my youth there are literally hundreds of friends and even family members whose names I have forgotten or whom I only vaguely remember yet I can not only name each and every one of the dogs we've had, I can think of countless hours worth of stories about each one. From Sheba who was terrified of salsa to Piper who I learned to walk by holding on to. From Skippy II who slept on her back with her legs up in the air to Paco who had more character than 90% of the people you meet on the street in a given day. Each of these animals holds a special place in my life and in my heart. Even thoughts of Angel, the most useless dog in history, brings a smile to my face. As a teenager I experienced my fair share of death among my family and friends and as a fairly stoic kid I took each in stride without tears. But the day Paco died I cried for hours. And not little tears, either. Big, balling, "baby-lost-it's-pacifer" tears. For that matter, while there have been plenty of movies that have put a lump in my throat, only two continue to bring tears to my eyes each and every stinking time: the vet scene at the end of "Turner and Hooch" and when the old dog Shadow comes over the hill in "Homeward Bound."

I ask myself what it is about dogs that brings out these kinds of thoughts and emotions? I contend that the reason is that dogs, in many ways, display the absolute best of human qualities, the things we sometimes can only wish to find in people. Dogs provide companionship. Loyalty. An open ear and a closed mouth. UNCONDITIONAL love. And if nothing else, a warm greeting when you come home.

I won't contend that dogs have souls or feelings or are in some way equal to humans. As my dad puts it, they're not as high up as children but maybe a little higher than second cousins. But never underestimate the power a dog can have on a person and the tug a dog can put on your heart. So I'm hoping and praying that Chewy pulls through, mostly because I know the pain that comes with the loss of a pet but also because the world is just a little bit better with the goofy mutt in it.