His name is Monty. His parents' names are Susan and Jim Johnston, and they are wonderful, thoughtful people who have known Carolyn as their veterinarian forever. She has walked with them through illnesses and injuries, funny stories, multiple pet dynamics and the eventual aging of a long series of pets. Carolyn has loved them and the pets they entrusted to her care. Monty joins a whole lot of family members now, but Susan and Jim are left without him and without that unconditional love for which he was so famous.
And, you see, I think that Monty is a "heart dog", that one pet that reaches deeper inside you than anyone has ever reached before. I don't know when that starts--was it the minute they locked eyes with you and saw something there that spoke to them? Was it after a week or a month or a year when they knew that you were theirs forever? And when do we figure it out in our cluttered human brains? When do we know that this is the one, the one that will matter just a little more, the one that becomes so much a part of us that we begin to forget where they stop and we begin?
I think it is different with every dog. Some would be happy with anyone who treated them kindly, fed them regularly and maybe understood the value of a squeaky toy or a tennis ball. Others? Others seem to know how to look into your soul and you cannot imagine living without them. And they, too, feel that you won't be as safe, or as happy, or as willing to face the tough times that happen to all of us, without them. And they are right.
Monty was--and is--one of those dogs.
The good news is that they don't ever really leave you. When they die, the loss is huge and painful, but after a while you begin to realize that you have been changed. You are a little stronger than you were before you met them, a little braver. Perhaps you find yourself a little more willing to listen, a little kinder. However you are changed, it is for the better. And if you can get to a place of being willing to have a dog again, you will be a great pet parent, not because there will ever be that same heart dog in your life, but because you are a better person for having loved that heart dog.
I do believe that Susan and Jim will see Monty again, as well as all of those pets who preceded him. But before that happens, they will have to be content with wrapping the memories of these precious lives around them, and to feel the richness, the glory of them all.
They deserve every moment of that love.
