Dogs help to make us better people

A pet dog is an enigma. It has both the teeth and the genealogy of being an alpha predator. Yet, from our end, we invite them into our homes. From their end, they allow themselves to enter into our pack and to do so at a subordinate level. Moreover, a dog forms hard and fast bonds within its adopted pack that seem much more based on emotion than hierarchy, and these bonds completely lack political intent. In fact, a dog's standing within its family effortlessly, purposefully and consistently fluctuates between service and dependence. Thus, it achieves the full status of domestication, which considering their DNA, is pretty wild! A dog is a sensory receptor. Its hearing, vision and olfaction are always on and processing. What it experiences … how it "sees" … the world is far beyond our ability to comprehend. They are tuned in and always on and always processing. They take all of this input and develop a database that is both ever-growing and easily accessed. Blessed with muscle, speed and agility, a dog can react to a situation almost before it happens. While such prowess might present itself in an ultimate defense of a family member, it often is hidden in more simple and common situations. Like, perhaps, when it sits on the patio facing the wind and sniffing with snout up. (It is incomprehensible what it is deciphering when it does this, but I have tried and simply smelled air.) Sometimes it may manifest itself when you reach for the cupboard that holds the drinking glasses and the dog immediately situates itself next to the freezer. Its sense of analytics suggests that an offering of an ice cube is a good bet, and that one soon sliding across the floor is both a fun and challenging chase and a refreshing treat. A dog is an instigator, and is so in some of the most inappropriate ways and at the most inappropriate times. In an instant it can makes us remember that fun has no age and that being tired and out-of-shape is no excuse. And in moments when it can't fight its own nature, it can turn well-sought-after rest and quiet into chaos and expense. And with that said … A dog is expensive. Sure, there are food and veterinary bills, but there are also toys … and beds and blankets … and collars and leashes. (What dog doesn't chew up its leash?) … and grooming … and boarding … and treats. (They ain't learning these commands and "tricks" for nothing!) … and for repair and replacement (for those "but-your-favorite-slippers-smelled-like-you" incidents). It is not wrong for any owner to run some numbers on their dog's ROI (return on investment). Oh, and if your dog happens to be a pure breed, then there is the excessive sticker shock of ownership. (Please consider a shelter dog!) And if it gets hurt, well, that's a higher level of shock. (And why pet insurance is becoming so popular and realistically necessary.) A dog is a responsibility. It can't fill its own food or water bowl. It can't take itself for a walk. It can't groom itself, though it might believe it can. It can't schedule appointments with its primary care veterinarian. And in most cases, it can't let itself outside when nature calls. (And it can't make the nature of its call go away.) But it can, accidentally, step in its own nature and bring it into the house. And with that said … A dog is the dirtiest thing on earth. As mentioned, it steps in stuff. It rolls in stuff. It eats stuff. (And some of this stuff enters your airspace in a deceptively quiet, but highly odoriferous manner) It sheds, .and while some do this on a schedule, others do it constantly. (Relegate yourself to consider each and every dog hair as a magical fiber of love.) It requires "pet" level vacuums (some of which need to operate daily) and portable carpet cleaners (some of which need to operate daily.) And for some reason, it requires to lounge on the sofa, and sleep with your daughter (and it is just best to learn to live with this.) A dog is a reminder. It shows us that humans and nature are not separate and exclusive, but unique animals sharing the ecological landscape of the earth. While they find the same comfort and belonging that we do, they do so without losing the entirety of their nature. They still can bark. They can still bite. But when we extend the proper portions of our nature upon them, they don't have to, and we derive so many special things from them, with, undoubtedly the act and art of unconditional love being at the top of the list. And short of full-on domestication of everything, if we would just extend this same understanding and appreciation to the whole of nature, then imagine what an amazing world we would live in. A dog is a member of the family. And last night we had to say goodbye to our beloved Lucy. Lucy was an English yellow Labrador retriever, and she was the epitome of what a family dog is and what a family dog does. And while I could tell you a million things I loved about her, let me just share this one thought: Imagine having a best friend that never, ever, sees bad in anyone, and in doing so, she made me, and my family, better people. Thanks girl! January 100 Update As of Thursday morning, I stand at 72 species. (eBird has me down for 71, but I'm counting the ring-necked pheasant I came upon!) Thus, I need to average about two2 new birds per day to reach 100 for January in Lorain County. That sounds easy, but each and every bird gets harder and harder to find. If you see an unusual bird, let me know!