The Love of My Life

A part of me wants to dedicate this entire blog to my dog, Duke Kahanamoku.  Yes, I am a crazy dog lady. I feel as though my dog and I have a “real” connection. I think he is cuter than your dog. I think he is a genius. I think he doesn’t mind the outfits he wears. Yes, I love my dog. Yes, I think he is special.

My dog has been with me for almost 8 years. He has suffered through a divorce, bad boyfriends, several apartments, a cross country move and a marriage (okay that one wasn’t a “suffer”). Throughout all of this he has been my rock. Out of the career jumps, stress, alcoholism and worse my dog has been the only constant. I fought for him. I refused to live in a place that didn’t allow dogs. I paid ridiculous pet deposits. I did what I had to, to keep my pet.  I’ve cried on him, we’ve shared sleeping quarters, we’ve gone on long walks and we’ve found ourselves together. My world can crumble around me, but I still have Duke and he has helped to push me through things whether that means giving me an excuse to leave the house or to exercise or to be social. One summer, after a bitter breakup, when I was dating my husband long distance, Duke was my dinner date. We found a downtown Wilmington restaurant that had outside eating and I sat there, with my dog and had dinner then took him to a local bar for drinks. I even dressed him up in an aloha shirt. He’s my partner in everything.

Up until a few weeks ago my dog came to work with me, everyday. Over the summer and fall he was my running partner (we ran/walked 2 miles on my lunch break). For co-workers he was a pick me up, a ray of sunshine. He rarely barked except to alert us when someone who doesn’t work in the office was there. He was a “treat whore” and had many office flings. Most of the time he slept in a giant dog bed, next to my desk. When everyone started working from home, I felt like they’ll miss Duke more than me. Duke was endearing. He would stare at you until you caved whether that was giving him a piece of your lunch, petting him, or handing over a dog treat.

I was separated from my dog for 3 months once. I moved in with my husband and the place we were at didn’t allow dogs. He lived with my aunt and uncle and I visited him on weekends. It ended up being a good thing as we found out my uncle had thyroid cancer and needed surgery. Duke helped him with his recovery. He became his companion and stayed by his side. My uncle became so attached to Duke that my aunt shared a story about his surgery.

My uncle was about to go under the knife. Worried, my aunt told him to think of positive things. My aunt thought he would think of her, or his grandchildren or even his sailboat. When she asked him what he was going to think about minutes before surgery all he said was “Duke.”

It wasn’t the first time my dog was used for recovery. My cousin’s dog who stayed with my aunt every other week had cancer from an un-descended testicle. During his recovery Duke stayed by his side. Buddy (a 110-pound chocolate lab) used to not be able to go to a dog park due to his sour temperament. After his recovery he can not only go to a dog park but play with other dogs. Duke is a 35-pound beagle mutt and together they were a ridiculous pair but they are still, to this day best friends. When they see each other, they lose it.

While my dog may be cuter than yours, in no way do I think he is better. Dogs serve a great purpose. They are true companions. They are the best example of unconditional love. When you get home from work they make you feel like you are the most important person in the world and to them you probably are.  They love you and become a part of your life and family. I am a nerd because I consider my dog my kid and that may make me sound crazy, so cheers to insanity!

Soon it will be completed.