My Meeko

I have a chihuahua named Meeko. I have been feeling bad lately because ever since Gavin came along Meeko's been kind of left in the dust. I'm sure that anyone that has kids understands that when you have a baby your priorities change. Not that I don't love Meeko, but lately I've just been a little annoyed by her. I guess I focus so much of my attention on Gavin that she just gets in the way sometimes. My mom always used to say that Meeko was an "important training tool" meaning she was sort of preparing me, in a way, to have kids. We got Meeko back in 2002 when she was just a few months old. We got her because while we were gone on a trip to Hawaii our apartment was broken into. Needless to say I was paranoid after that and I wanted a dog that would bark if someone tried to come in. (I know she's little, but she has a good bark!)

Meeko is always by my side. If I am sitting down, she is on my lap. If I am laying down somewhere, she has to be curled up in a little ball right next to me. She is such a loyal little dog, and though she bugs me sometimes with her begging and barking, I must say that I love her!

I received this e-mail a while ago and thought it was an awesome tribute to dogs, so I had to share it.

A Dog's Purpose, from a 4-year-old

Being a veterinarian, I had been called to examine a ten-year-old Irish Wolfhound named Belker. The dog's owners, Ron, his wife, Lisa, and their little boy, Shane, were all very attached to Belker, and they were hoping for a miracle. I examined Belker and found he was dying of cancer.

I told the family we couldn't do anything for Belker, and offered to perform the euthanasia procedure for the old dog in their home. As we made arrangements, Ron and Lisa told me they thought it would be good for four-year-old Shane to observe the procedure. They felt as though Shane might learn something from the experience. The next day, I felt the familiar catch in my throat as Belker's family surrounded him.

Shane seemed so calm petting the old dog for the last time that I wondered if he understood what was going on. Within a few minutes, Belker slipped peacefully away. The little boy seemed to accept Belker's transition without any difficulty or confusion.

We sat together for a while after Belker's death, wondering aloud about the sad fact that animal lives are shorter than human lives. Shane, who had been listening quietly piped up, "I know why." Startled, we all turned to him. What came out of his mouth next stunned me. I'd never heard a more comforting explanation. He said, "People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life-- like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?" The four-year-old continued, "Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long."

If a dog was the teacher you would learn stuff like:

When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.

Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

Take naps.

Stretch before rising.

Run, romp, and play daily.

Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.

On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree.

When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.

Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.

Stop when you have had enough.

Be loyal.

Never pretend to be something you're not.

If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.