For the Love of Dogs
Because sometimes, everything that matters comes with paws.
I once saw a man pull his bulldog in a black wagon just so the dog could still “join him” on their morning walk.
There was an elderly woman and her Jack Russell moving in perfect unison, both shuffling at a snail’s pace, not in a rush to be anywhere but with each other.
And a kid on a bike who slowed down just to wave at a Labrador like it was a celebrity.
These little scenes remind me that there’s a language people speak when it comes to dogs: wordless, sincere, and understood by everyone who’s ever loved one.
You don’t need words to understand what’s being felt in those moments.
It’s a kind of affection we all recognize, even if we don’t have a name for it.
That kind of love pops up in all sorts of ways.
There’s the woman on her lunch break who squeals with delight when my dog walks by and bends down to give her a quick pat on the head.
You’ll see dogs framed like family on lock screens or posted like proud accomplishments.
Then there’s the kind of love that bubbles over, where they’re so cute you end up kissing them on the head a little too hard and apologizing afterward.
And of course, the 20,000 photos on your phone, nearly all of them identical, yet impossible to delete because somehow, every single one feels important.
And I just know these dogs know how loved they are, almost to a point of entitlement.
Their personalities truly shine through when they feel safe and taken care of.
The zoomies in the yard the moment they touch grass.
The side eye they give you when you know they know there are more treats where that came from.
The slow tongue mlems as they are falling asleep.
And if they could talk? You just know it’d be something deeply profound like “Are you going to finish that?”
Even then, they wouldn’t ask much.
They are just as happy living in a mansion as they would be curled up in a tent.
They give you everything – love, loyalty, presence – without asking anything in return, except maybe your spot on the couch or that last bite of steak.
They remind us how good it feels to be seen without needing to prove anything. To be accepted just as we are: messy, distracted, imperfect.
Dogs are known for teaching us discipline, structure, routine – but they also teach unconditional love. Loyalty without compromise or commitment.
You get a dog without knowing what it’ll mean.
And then ten years later, you look back and realize they were there for everything.
Every move, every heartbreak, every celebration.
No complaints, no conditions… just quiet companionship.
It’s funny how you thought you were giving them a home, but it turns out, they gave you yours.
You can’t bring yourself to think what life would be like without them, without their nose prints on the glass door or their fur woven into every piece of clothing.
Yet the reminders are there…
in the grey hairs slowly enveloping their face,
in the fact they are slowing down even if you don’t want to recognize it.
A reminder that all of this is temporary.
And maybe that’s the hardest and most beautiful part, knowing it’s all fleeting.
It’s a reminder to let love in without hesitation.
To show affection like no one’s watching.
To love your humans loudly.
You might not be a dog person.
But maybe you’ve loved something or someone so much, even knowing it wouldn’t last.
Something that made you speak in a weird voice, give up your blanket, rearrange your life without resentment.
Something that made you want to be a better version of yourself.
That’s what dogs are for so many of us.
That’s what they’ve been for me.
You don’t always know what you’re getting when you bring a dog home.
But if you’re lucky, what you get is everything that matters.
