He stole my heart the day he stole my bed

There's this moment, a one defining moment, in the lives of those who own a dog.  This moment, not only changes the life of the person who owns a dog, but it ultimately will determine who owns who.

It's been nearly a decade since I had to say goodbye to my black lab, Buddy, of nine years.  Like all life altering experiences and remarkable fixtures that come and go into our lives, I remember just about every detail of my life with Buddy.

Deciding to get a dog is one of the most important life changing decisions, we, as people, will ever make.  It's a decision that is not only rewarding but it literally is one of the few things in this life that will leave an indelible imprint in our lives and hearts forever.

Who doesn't remember their first dog?  Who can't talk about a past dog without a smile beaming across their face?  Who hasn't wept the day they had to say goodbye to that lifelong friend?

Dogs are amazing.  They fill our lives with joy.  They can bring meaning to an empty life.  They teach us how to love; to unconditionally love.  A simple greeting from a wag of their tail has the power to change our mood; to put things into perspective and to simply make us want to be better people.

Dogs change lives.  If you haven't owned a dog, you haven't lived.


Today, I had one of those flashbacks of Buddy.  Maybe, it was the early evening thunderstorm that threw me into some whirlwind of nostalgia. 

But there I was laying in bed.  Alone.  And for some reason, I just started to laugh.


I don't know if I made a mistake.  It was one of those decisions I made because frankly, you have to be heartless to say "no" to a puppy when he looks at you with those big, sad eyes.

There I was, years ago, just laying in bed.  Thunder echoing throughout my house.  Rain beating down on my rooftop.  Buddy was my new friend.  Our nine year journey together was just beginning.

I'll admit I just wanted to slowly fade into sleep as the thunderstorm of that evening was passing through.  I couldn't.  Buddy was sitting at the side of the bed; just staring at me. 

"Go lay down", I sternly stated.

Buddy whimpered and just sat there staring.  But it was his next move that would inevitably change the course of our relationship and ultimately my life.

He placed his small chin onto my bed.  Then he lifted up his tiny paw in a feeble attempt to jump onto my bed.  Buddy was politely asking if he could sleep in bed with me.

How could I say 'no'?  Those soft, big, brown eyes were politely begging for comfort.  He was choosing me as his refuge. 

Everything would be okay in his world, if I just simply let him onto my bed with me.  That's what he was telling me.

So, I gave in.  I have a heart.  

That night Buddy slept right next to me with his head on my pillow.  That angry thunderstorm quickly melted into a beautiful song.  Everything was okay now in Buddy's world.

Little did I know at the time that the decision I made that night was a nine year decision.

That one special occasion of offering my bed as a place of safety for him turned into a nightly event. 

Dogs quickly become entitled. 

Over the next decade, I never owned a bed.  I simply rented it from Buddy. 

When I came home from work, if he wasn't asleep in my bathtub, he was asleep on my bed.

 

At night, when I crawled into bed, he would jump in with me.  And he got to choose which side of the bed was his.  Even worse, he chose how much of the bed was his.

If I dared push him to the side, he would growl at me.  If I used my angry voice, his angry voice was even louder.

Each night was the same.  I would let Buddy lay down next to me with hopes that once he fell asleep, I could nudge him to the side and recapture what is mine.  But it never took long for me to realize that I would have to wait until the next night to try again.

 

Once he was comfortable in my bed, he would decide to get even more comfortable by laying on his back with his four legs spread out.  

On a few occasions, I would get the courage to remind him who was boss.  I would take back my bed and push him onto the floor..  But of course, we know what would happen next....

Buddy would sit at the side of my bed and place his chin onto my bed.  Then, he would place his paw on my pillow as a feeble attempt to jump in with me.

How could I say 'no'?  Those soft, big, brown eyes were politely asking for one more chance. 

And he got his second chance.

This cycle was repeated his entire life. 

I may have endured many restless and sleepless nights but looking back, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.