Common life

Jennifer Vanasco
Cira January 2006
The Gayly Oklahoman

All a lesbian needs to know, she can learn from her dog.

My dog Max has taught me a lot. Max has been my daily, loyal friend longer than anyone I’ve known in Chicago, where I’ve lived for over 11 years. Right now, he’s sighing at me from his bed near the couch, asking me silently when we’re going to sleep.

Whenever a friend loses their dog to illness or accident—as a friend of mine did recently—I hold Max with renewed appreciation. I know that at 12 years he is older for a dog though he doesn’t yet seem elderly. I know that I now have had more years with him than I have left.

It astonishes me that people dare to adopt dogs and cats and then love them so hard. We know we will fall in love with them, that we will depend on them, and that they will depend on us.

We know that we are letting these creatures into our hearts only to one day lose them, yet somehow, we still believe the love and friendship they bring into our lives are worth the inevitable, painful loss. We choose love and hope over future sadness.

That is the first great lesson they teach us. Time is short. The clock ticks. The tail wags. Love, in whatever form it takes, is the first, last and best thing.

That’s one lesson. Here are some others.

Just show up. Max has been with me through two serious relationships, several giddy whirlwind affairs, and too many one night stands to mention here.

Plus, he’s seen me through surgery, a career crisis and the ends and beginnings of friendships. He was also there through several slow, painful years it took me to learn to play guitar, and a ridiculous number of all-nighters spent writing columns. He’s never said anything during all that time. He hasn’t needed to; sometimes his loving presence is enough.

Greet each day happily. Every day is the same routine for us. The alarm turns on. I stare at the ceiling blearily and listen to NPR. All I want to do is roll over.

Max, on the other hand, is excited to start the morning. He jumps up beside me, lets me pet him for 20 minutes, and then reminds me that it’s time to get moving. There are important things to do, smells to smell, squirrels to chase! What a great day it’s going to be!

OK, I never wake up thinking, “This is going to be a great day!” But Max always does. I can tell. That’s very Buddhist of him I think, each moment finding new joys in old ways.

Routines are good. I’ve never been a routine type of girl. I don’t like to get up, eat or exercise at the same time. However, when you have a dog, routine is important because they expect it from you. There is indeed a time to walk and a time to be fed. My life has run much more smoothly since Max started pacing our days.

Defend your loved ones. Loyalty is never as clear as when you have a dog, and it matters. When you defend those you love you are telling them that you love them. You are telling them that they are part of your pack and that you are going through life together.

If something is worth getting, it is worth devoting all your attention to it, and then you should nap. Dogs can work on gnawing down a bone or chasing a ball for what seems like hours. They enjoy the focus and work.

The process is as satisfying as the goal. But then—do dogs move on to the next thing? No. They do not. They lay around for a while.

Defend yourself, but don’t stay angry. If someone accidentally steps on Max’s tail or encroaches in his space—even me—he will give an angry growl-bark and a pretend snap. That’s his way of saying “Back off.”

The next minute though, he’s all happy tail and bright eyes. Dogs don’t harbor anger. Max lets you know he’s upset and then he lets it go. That’s something I try to learn every day.

Trust your instincts. Every dog owner has seen this happen. Your dog is marching quietly down the street when some regular looking person walks by, and the dog lunges and growls. The person gets angry. The owner is embarrassed.

It’s OK. Your dog doesn’t need a reason why they feel someone is menacing; they just know. Likewise, we don’t always need reasons for distrusting people. Our instincts cut through the niceties of social obligation and remind us to guard ourselves.

Never turn down love and affection. People are silly about this. We nurse our anger. We look for reasons to keep ourselves from others. Our partner forgets to do the dishes again, so we ignore her when she reaches out for a hug. Don’t do that. A dog never would. Take affection whenever you can get it.

Affection, love, friendship, joy, work, and loyalty—these are the salt of life. We can learn this from our dogs.

This column first ran in the January 2006 issue of The Gayly Oklahoman.
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