Letter to a Former Dog

Dear Sarge,

You have always loved to frolic in bright, open spaces, so I know that your spirit is probably too busy rolling in some sunny meadow to listen to me now.  But I hope that you will pause for just a second, as you have so many times before, and look back at me this one last time because I have something to say.

Back when you had your brown and white coat and your endlessly wagging tail, we always said that you were the sweetest dog ever, but not very smart. 

We were wrong about that.

We thought that you were always so happy because you were ignorant of the pain and misery in the world, but now I realize that you saw all of it.  In hindsight, I understand that your happiness did not arise from ignorance, it arose from wisdom.  You knew that being sad or bitter or angry or dejected would contribute to more misery in the world and you flat out refused to weigh in on the dark side.  Your stubborn happiness was not a weakness, it was a powerful force.

In the six years I have known you, I never saw you downtrodden for very long.  A few minutes of moping was all you would allow yourself, and then your pink nose would begin to twitch, and your tail would begin to thump, and we would all know that you had sniffed out some crumb of goodness and were about to feast on it.  You would find an old sock under the couch, or a yellow patch of sunlight in a gloomy room, or a soggy stick in the mud or some bored human glued to their phone, and you would pounce, delighted that you had discovered such a treasure.

Your joy was so contagious that everyone caught it.  Even in the most sad and stressful situations, we would smile at you and say, “Poor sweet Sarge, he has no idea what’s really going on.”

But you did know what was going on, didn’t you?  You were always the rich, wise one among us and we were the poor ones who didn’t know. We were always trying to teach you tricks, but it turns out the trick was on us, because this whole time, you’ve been the teacher.

Well, I know this is about the end of your attention span, Sarge, so I’ll let you go now, my sweet friend.  I will smile every time I think of you, knowing that your wise spirit is out there somewhere rolling in goodness and chasing light.