Of Dogs and Men

When I first moved to Georgia last October to live with my sister and family, they had a great dog named Oreo. He was a black lab with white markings on his chest, paws and face. O.K. maybe the white on his face was grey hair. In any event, as I said Oreo was indeed a great dog from the moment I arrived, most always laid back and calm: except when it was time to eat. At this point in time he would break into what I could only describe as his pattented "dinner dance." Keep in mind Oreo was over twelve years old ( that's 50,000 years old for humans I'm told, but I question the reliability of my source). Oreo would circle around the floor almost like chasing his tail but always with an eye on you as you bagan to prepare his meal. He would also give little jumps in the air and pant with uncontrolable ecstasy. It was quite the sight. When he finished his meal he would retire to his bed in the corner, thoroughly contented or exhausted I'm not quite sure which. Later before the end of the evening, we fed him around eight, Oreo would often engage in a robust game of tug-a-war with his favorite tug-toy. Again amazing energy for a 50,000 year old dog. He was like Yoda who normally gimped slowly around all day but when he broke out that light saber he was suddenly the bionic man.
Oreo's heart and entire inner being was so full of love of life and especially love for his masters that one afternoon we got home and could quickly see he was not well at all. As has been said in another context, and forgive me for borrowing, Oreo had given his last full measure of devotion. He was given peace that night. My eyes well even now as I write this. I will end with this unknown quote:

"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion."