What My Dog Has Taught Me About Life

Dobby is a 15-year-old mouthy miniature pinscher with cataracts in his eyes, a limp from being run over by a car a decade ago and the heart of a lion... in the body of a puppy.

While he barks bloody murder to get anyone to help him down off the couch, he can still jump up to the couch when he thinks no one’s watching. He sleeps a lot now but his ears still perk up at the sound of any crumb hitting the ground and while he can’t really run like he used to, he still canters like a mini stallion on his infrequent walls.

He avoids the outdoors if it’s raining, refuses to eat soft foods despite not having most of his teeth and gets in your face to sniff you when he can’t see you, which is most of the time now as his eyes cloud with cataracts. But he still gets playful, crouching down, his butt and tail wagging when he’s offered a snack and prancing around my husband’s buddies while they play cards in hopes of a few table scraps.

As I get older and the body aches and pains start, I look at my dog and think, “if he can still jump up on the couch, I can keep scrubbing this tub.” Okay, probably not the best analogy, but he’s an inspiration in many ways. Here are some ways he's taught me to live life a bit better.

Don't let life get you down. Dobby couldn't care less about your political leanings, who you sleep with, what church you attend, or how you identify, he just wants you to sit down on the couch beside him, so he can get some of your warmth. It's not that he's ambivalent about the world his masters live in, he'd rather focus on the more important things in life, like how much time his Momma is going to spend on her Netflix binge of the British Baking Show, so he can stay curled up, catching some much-needed sleep beside her.
He works hard at not working hard. He spends his days looking for ways and areas around the house where he can sleep comfortably. He knows sleep is a very important part of his health regimen, and he commits himself to it with laser focus.
He doesn't let obstacles get in his way. Dobby will walk all over the laptop, remote control, books and papers strewn on the sofa to get to his sleeping corner. He refuses to eat soft food preferring to crunch on hard kibble with the remaining teeth he has left even if it takes him twice as long to eat.

He’s crotchety, ornery, ridiculously divaesque in his ways, but he’s still playful, loving, and at times, even helpful. I mean, he can still hear, so he’s sure to let you know every time the neighbor has company, steps outside or the breeze blows any leaves across our lawn. This is still his castle, after all and his instincts are to defend it any way he can. If that means barking at 3 a.m. to let everyone know he heard a sound somewhere, then so be it.