The Gift of Inconvenience

Some reflections on the passing of my dog.

To be honest, I'm not much of a dog person. I kinda like small dogs, but really don't care for large dogs. And I really don't like having to take care of them or the constraints they put on being able to leave the house.

My family got a miniature schnauzer because my wife and kids wanted one. My condition was that I didn't have to be involved in taking care of the dog. Of course, they all agreed and held up their end of the bargain. Eventually, my daughter got married and moved away. My son graduated and moved out. And my wife doesn't work from home. So, being that I work from home, I was left alone to care for the dog.

My life has always been chaotic and fast-paced because I wear a lot of different hats and need to be involved in several different projects at one time. I felt very inconvenienced by inheriting the responsibility to care for the dog. If I was in a meeting and he needed a walk, it would interfere with my focus on the meeting, knowing that he was standing there waiting. I start my business day before the dog gets up, so when my wife has to be away, I again have to interrupt my work time with a walk and then feed the dog. Or if I have to go into the office for some reason, I am stuck figuring out how the dog will be cared for.

Not that I ever wished my dog ill, but a part of me was looking forward to when I wouldn't have to be responsible for him. Please understand that it was my deep level of compassion for him that brought about the profound sense of responsibility I felt.

Just before Christmas 2023, my dog had reached the point where it was more cruel to try and keep him alive than to help him pass peacefully. We made the difficult appointment to take him to the vet the day after Christmas. So, on Christmas, even though he couldn't walk anymore, we put him in a wagon and took him on a walk around all the places he used to like to go. He seemed to like it. A crowd of the family was walking with him, and we stopped to see the neighbors who knew him and wanted to say goodbye. It was almost like he was on parade. It was a unique gift we could share with him on his last day. The next day, the family gathered to be with him, and we said our goodbyes as he was put down at the vet.

I felt uncomfortable, guilty really that I had been looking forward to the day he was gone. My feelings suddenly felt so selfish. What I was wrestling with was that I did not choose to have a dog and this responsibility. But isn't this the nature of being human? We find ourselves in places and situations that we would never choose if given a choice. One of the most important discoveries we can make as we get older is that resisting things we cannot change makes no sense. Resisting can cause mild annoyance, as with the dog, or real suffering and despair when facing more significant life issues. The funny thing is I know this and practice it in most areas of my life. How I did not pick up on this in my experience with the dog, I do not know. Maybe I just wanted something to vent about in a joking way.

Now that he's gone, I notice many things that happen throughout the day that remind me of him. Sounds that I knew would startle him. How he would plead with us not to leave him at home when we went out, and how excited he would be when we came home. How he would need to be carried to bed when he had trouble walking at night. Ensuring he was walked at the right time. Feeding him and making sure he had water. All the things that I had perceived as an inconvenience. But now I look at those inconveniences a bit differently. Somehow, the regular inconvenience built a relationship in my heart. Through his dependence on me, I developed a compassion for him. There is a joy that can only be experienced when you sacrifice yourself for someone else. I first learned this by raising my children and cultivating my marriage with my wife. I see now that it was happening with my dog as well. I am grateful for the lessons he helped me to recognize.

I wasn't sure what to expect when he passed. He had been a part of our family for nearly 15 years. I find it fascinating that two different species can have a friendship, but I know my dog and I were friends. As much as I'm not a dog person, I loved him. And I will miss him.