I can't be surprised...

... by the success of John Grogan's "Marley and Me -- Life and Love with the World's Worst Dog":

The story is more than a recounting of Marley's antics that include chewing through doors, expulsion from obedience school, clawing paint off concrete walls, devouring furniture, swallowing valuable jewelry and swooning over soiled diapers.

The excitable, good-natured lab also knows how to protect the family's tiny children and consoles the couple when they grieve over a miscarriage.

The nonfiction book has been on The New York Times bestseller list for 17 weeks. It seems likely to break the barrier of a million copies sold, a feat generally accomplished by no more than a dozen books each year in the U.S. hardcover non-fiction market.

"It's really not just a dog book," Grogan said in an interview with Reuters.

"Before Marley, our life was about career, relationship, and ourselves," said Grogan, a columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer. "He helped us shift from an egocentric life to something more generous."

In the book, Grogan wrote: "Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things -- a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in the shaft of winter sunlight.

"And as he grew old and achy, he taught he about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty."

A month has passed since we lost our beloved Sadie and daily we're dealing with the emptiness her death has brought us.  I still find myself amazed at how deep our affection for her was.  I had never thought that I could get so attached to a dog.

Mrs. BH has set foot in the backyard only a couple of times since January 23rd.  She's told me that it's still too hard to go back there and not expect to see her. It's where we spent a lot of time with Sadie. 

We come home from work and at times forget that she's gone and then a quick glance over at the chair we usually found her in and it all comes back, along with that painful longing her death has left us with.  It seems odd to even write those words, after all she was just a dog.  Even as I write them, sitting in the lazy-boy with the laptop, I expect to see her plop down beside me where I could reach down, as I have countless times before, and scratch her behind the ears, something that brought her visible joy.

There have been times at night when the imagination plays tricks on me and I think I hear her breathing.  She used to sleep on my side of the bedroom in her bed and more times than not I'd have to nudge her because of her snoring. God but wouldn't I love to hear that snore again. 

There were many mornings when as I got up to start my day, I'd reach down and cover her back up as she lay in her bed.  Many of those mornings she'd give me a look that seemed to say thanks.  Many of those same mornings she'd lay in that bed covered up well past the time Mrs. BH and I had awakened to begin the day.  Now there's a rather large empty space where her bed used to be, an empty space matched by the one felt deep down inside.

All this over a dog yes, but a dog that unconditionally loved us, that minded little when we were cranky, that brought comfort when we needed it, that somehow made us feel secure, snug, wanted and yes... beyond doubt, loved.

Sadie, I think, gave us a glimpse, a peek, a small token, by design I'd like to believe, of God's love for His creation.  When He made creation, He called it good.  When He created Sadie, He did that which was exceptionally good.

We miss that goodness very much.

UPDATE: If this post is a bit of a downer for ya, I encourage a visit to Dr. Bob who has his own dog story that's more than a tad upbeat.

Comments

[Mike R.]

Amen brother...

She will be missed. I remember living with you guys and sharing a recliner with her. I would lay down and watch TV and here comes Sadie. She would crawl right next to me... I think more to prove that she was the owner of that spot... but at least she was a sweetheart about it.

Now that I am on deployment, I realize how crazy I am about my own dog. Robin sends me pictures as if he were my son... Well, he is my son. I can't wait to see him. We initially grabbed him so he could be a security guard for Robin in anticipation of a deployment, but now he is a big part of our little family. He can be a pain in the ass, but he is well worth it. I never thought I would get so attached to a dog either.

I'd like to think your right dude.. God has his way of sending a message about unconditional love. I'd like to think he has slapped me with another big message by sending me away from home. I appreciated my family (including Riggins), friends, and especially Robin... but now I do more than ever. I hope Robin understands why I will be wagging my tail when I step off the plane. We learn in strange ways what it means to love someone unconditionally... even if its from a Saide or Riggins. I know I have learned something... Plus, I am more than a little sexually deprived ;)

Enough of that... Love you guys, Prayin for you.

-lil bro

[ruthie small]

loss seems to leads to grief. think about how cindy shehan feels every morning. if people grieve over their pets just wonder how they grieve over the loss of a child.

go ahead, say something stupid.

[Rick]

Ruthie, I think Cindy Sheehan has said enough stupid things for the both of us...