[Wondergirl]

First published: June 5, 2012

My love for animals is inherited. I was raised by my mother and maternal grandparents (with assistance from my aunt and uncle) until my father came home from the Army. My grandmother, who came to the US from Austria when she was 14, often spoke of the farm she left behind, the animals she had cared for and loved, her mother’s ability to treat the farm animals when they were sick or injured. My grandparents had a dachshund named Sarge, and he’s in almost every photo of me when I was a child.

My father was coming home on leave, and the entire family was trying to get me to say my first word, with absolutely no success. My mother desperately wanted me to say “Daddy.” I said nothing. My father came home, picked me up, I looked at him, I looked at my mother, and I said my first word. “Sarge.”

We always had a dog when I was growing up, and I’ve had dogs my entire adult life, always two, sometimes three at a time. They have all been rescues, unwanted or unloved, in need of a permanent, secure home. They’ve all given me far more than I’ve given them.

I remember the stages of my life by the dogs I had – college, my first job, my first apartment, my first love. I traveled for the Government, and my dogs went with me. They also ended more than one relationship. If they didn’t like someone, I figured they had astute dog judgment and/or dog psychic powers – and I ended the relationship.

I’ve loved my dogs as they’ve come into my life, and I’ve mourned them when they left me. I’ve had smart dogs and not-so-smart dogs. They’ve all been memorable for one reason or another. Andi could climb chain link fences, Lucky could open the refrigerator, Brandy could jump as high as my head, Sam was a Lab who didn’t like water, Cassie ran through the screen for the sliding door – three times. And the list goes on.

I enjoy the companionship of my dogs as much as I love anything about them. There’s something special about coming home when life is unfair or harsh and having them waiting on the other side of the door.

There is much to be learned from dogs – they don’t judge. In fact, they don’t care. They forgive, they don’t harbor resentment, they accept “it is what it is.” They grieve, but they know life goes on. They don’t worry about tomorrow or, for that matter, two minutes from now. They have flexible schedules (dogs don’t have day planners and don’t need to check with “their people”) and enjoy anything and everything. A ride in the car? Great idea, even if it’s only to the vet’s office.

I can’t ever imagine my life without a dog.