My friend Marion send a touching e-mail about the death of her dog, Blizzard, and I cried, then looked over anxiously at my own dog, Wendy the Weimer. Big dogs don't last long, and Wendy Dog is seven already.
People bond with animals easily, especially dogs. Dogs are so loyal. A former student once told me that people would dump their pets near her rural home and the poor animals would stay in the drop-off area for weeks, growing thinner and thinner, awaiting their masters' return.
And dogs are so forgiving; like battered children, abused canines will still cling to their cruel masters. And dogs are loving; they want to be with people, to cuddle up against them in good times and bad. And dogs want to please; nothing seems to make Wendy happier than successfully interpreting a command to roll over, to sit, to go to her bed.
Marion said not to mourn, that Blizzard's passing was peaceful and she is now in heaven. I can only add that, even if there isn't a heaven for people, there must be one for dogs.