What I learned From Losing My Dog
June 23, 2007
By Henry Makow Ph.D
I lost my dog last week.
A friend and I were swimming at a quarry. My dog Raffi would swim and then wander off. After an hour he would report in. I liked giving him freedom but when it came time to go home, Raffi hadn't returned.
We waited another hour and still no Raffi. My eyes strained for his little black form. Nothing would have made me happier.
I decided to take my friend home, have supper and return later. To my surprise and relief, my wife did not blame me.
After supper, we returned to the quarry for a couple of hours. A naked couple was making love on a sand dune, but no Raffi. We returned home in silence, devastated, bereft.
I didn't realize how much I loved the dog. Sure he was a pain-in-the-mutt sometimes. Walking him could be a drag. He jumped on me when I came out of the supermarket. But he was worth it.
Scenes of the things I loved went through my mind: his obvious happiness when I took him out; his bushy tail flying like a pennant in the breeze; his swimming through the snow like a dolphin; his sweet look of trust and vulnerability when I petted him.
I would never have those scenes again. I wondered where he was, and if he was in distress. Did someone find and keep him? I felt helpless. It's amazing how much presence a dog gives. Now the house would feel empty.
I reproached myself for letting him roam free. A product of the 1960's I try not to dominate. "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it is yours. If it doesn't it never was."
But I learned that a dog apparently doesn’t know any better. I needed to be more protective. I should have kept him on a long leash where he could still swim and roam a little. Now he was suffering, hungry and possibly in danger. I had failed him.
I was not his friend; I was his owner. There's a fine line between being responsible and being suffocating. This has implications for being a father and husband too.
An experience like this often divides a couple. But my wife didn’t reproach me. She could see that I was as upset as she. We had a good cry. Raffi brought us closer, a reminder of what was really important.
Around midnight, the phone rang. The owner of a cottage development near the quarry had Raffi. (Our phone number was on his dog tags.) We immediately drove out and got him. I couldn't wait to see him.
Of course, Raffi was ecstatic. He was worse for wear, limping and quite weak. His nose is still warm and dry, not cold and wet as it should be. He has been lying around the house for two days now, slowly recovering from his ordeal.
Pretty soon he will be back to normal. But I am changed forever.
Dane said (June 30, 2007):
i'd say you did good by letting your dog go. nothing is like true freedom. it does not come from a leash, whether on a dog or a human. dogs get enough of the control stuff in town. i had a dog once that never knew what dog food was, a leash or a collar. i hitch-hiked with her,too. she loved it. had you not found your dog is ok too, why? simply because of that irreplacable freedom freedom that is so dear to every creature. long may we all run, freely! so you are truly a good friend to your dog for freedoms sake, not irresponsible at all. does a baby bird stay in the nest forever? does a child stay with mom & dad forever. as more future comes at us in this country we will probably look back on the freedoms we knew. what we used to have. sad to say. do well, dog lover-----