“God protects babies and fools,” the old expression says. And dogs and forgetful humans. This morning Honor wanted to come with me to work. I pondered the idea, as she stood in the doorway to the kitchen, ears perked, waiting. I thought about my schedule and realized it was pretty light on meetings and so I could take her with me. So I packed up her stuff, put it on the back seat as she jumped in and lay down on the floor behind the front seats. And off we went. I didn’t think about her as I headed out on the Beltway and off to work. And I didn’t think about her again until I got back into my car at 3:00 p.m. and saw her head pop up from the back when I’d climbed into the car.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I burst out, flinging myself from the car, opening the back door and letting her out. I could not believe that I had forgotten her there. I praised and thanked every God I could think of that it had been a cool, rainy autumn day and not the warm and sunny 80 degree day we’d had just yesterday. I’m so sorry, I kept repeating as I let her out of the car and let her walk for a few moments and stop to pee. When I offered her water, she didn’t want any, and didn’t hesitate when I asked her to jump back into the car and situate herself on the floor where she’d just spent seven hours waiting and perhaps wondering what had become of me. It was a good thing I had left the office early–I had been feeling ill–or else she might have been another two hours in that car. I am still rattled by the whole experience and have apologized to her at least a dozen more times. Here is what I know: she has long since let it go.I wish I lived in the moment like Honor does. From what I can tell, she stopped thinking about the whole fiasco pretty much as soon as we got home. We got into the house, and I came back to my room and collapsed on my bed. She curled up in her bed and we both took a brief nap. I took her out for her regular evening walk, she did her business and I fed her and me our respective dinners. When we came back to our room, we played briefly a game where I attempt to take her bone away from her. She runs around with the bone in her mouth daring me to try and take it. Then as often happens, I give her a particular look and she looks back, flopping onto her back for me to rub her belly. As I indulge her she looks completely content, offering me her complete trust and unconditional love. And I shake my head at myself.
Honor is a such good pup. When I first got her from the shelter and for many months, even years whenever we’d ride in the car, she’d whine for the first several minutes of any trip. I’m not sure why. But now for the most part, she hops in, hunkers down in the back and doesn’t make a sound. Today, because of her calm silence and my distractedness, I completely forgot she was back there. I can still feel traces of the dismay I felt when I realized she was back there and already have thought of several safeguards I will put in place to make sure I never do that again.
Honor is my sidekick, my friend and companion. She is 100 percent dependent on me to take care of her and meet her needs, which for the most part I do pretty well. What I love about her and am grateful for is her happy-go-lucky, upbeat, every-day’s-a-good-day-to-play-ball attitude. She adores me and I’ve done very little to deserve it. She has shown no signs of distress about having been left in the car, I doubt she’ll hesitate to hop right in the next time I decide to take her someplace. But today’s averted disaster reminds me of how grateful I am to have her in my life and how much I love her.
My Sweet Friend
Recently on the internet a video has been circulating that captures how many people feel about their canine sidekicks. The video, “God Made a Dog,” has been viewed over 3 million times. I’ve watched it a half dozen times myself. It’s funny and poignant and oh so true, though I suppose non-dog lovers might not understand it at all. But when I look into the topaz eyes of my four-legged friend “Honnie” I know it’s true for me, and I am so very, very grateful for who she is and what she adds to my life. It simply doesn’t get much better than that.
