As I’ve written before, I believe that some dogs are spirit animals. They guide us through a particular passage of life, and they leave when they are ready.

I’ve been studying dogs for decades now, as well as living with them, and one of the most beautiful things about dogs is that we can tell our own story, and divine our own individual meaning as it applies to our lives.

Because dogs are mysterious, even mystical beings, and for all of our hubris and arrogance, we know so little about them.

We know precious little about the interior lives of dogs – how they think, what they feel, what they see, and understand, what they hope for.  The honest scholars of dogs –  Frans De Waal, James Serpell –  freely admit this.

It is not the most lucrative position to take, as we can see on Amazon.

Many dog people don’t agree with me about what we know; they insist they do know what dogs are feeling and thinking, and more power to them. I love not knowing, I love dogs because they are not like us, not because they are.

From what I’ve seen and believe, dogs are alien beings; we are just beginning to understand them after all these thousands of years. In recent years, they have come to mean something different to human beings; their new work is tending to and supporting our emotional lives.

That’s a significant change from hunting with us and protecting our caves.

Sometimes they mess us up; sometimes we mess them up. Sometimes they lift us up; sometimes we lift them up.

I believe that every dog that comes into my life has a message for me, and the messages from my dogs have changed, enriched, defined and challenged my life. I think every dog is different, just as every human who loves a dog is different.

Julius and Stanley, my first Labs, came to show me that I could be a writer, work alone, and write books without a day job. They were my first spirit guides in the country, sharing a year in my cabin that would have been almost unbearably lonely and unnerving without them. Their message was that I could survive working alone, being my own boss.

Orson came to lead me out of the desert that was my suburban life, and my troubled existence. He got me to sheep herding, to moving to the country, to bringing sheep and donkeys. In a sense, he was the architect of my new life.

Rose’s message was that me, a city  boy who had never set foot on a farm, could handle living on a remote farm with 90 acres, four barns, and sheep, donkeys, barn cats and dogs all by myself and survive lambing, sheepherding, brutal winters and blizzards, loneliness and challenge for six years. I thought she was my own Buck from Call Of The Wild; she helped me to feel safe and secure there.

Frida came to bring me to Maria; she was the vehicle through which I earned Maria’s trust, and eventually her willingness to share her life with me.

Frida was her spirit dog, and then my nemesis, and then my friend. She and Maria both mistrusted men, and for good reasons. Once Frida accepted me into her life, Maria also did. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Lenore’s message was to keep love alive. That was the reason I called her the Love Dog. She is what you want in a human, my therapist told me. She was right Lenore kept love alive in me when its flame was flickering, she gave me the hope and inspiration to look for love, she was there when I found it.

Bud’s message was to remember the needy and vulnerable dogs as well as the needy and vulnerable humans. Rescuing a vibrant spirit like Bud is a wonderful way to get a dog, even if it isn’t the only way.

Red’s message was to bring me to this new phase of my life, he was the transition dog, from my life as a shepherd and animal writer to the Mansion, Bishop Maginn, and the Army of Good. Red was my passport and my guide and companion into this new world. He paved the way for this vibrant new chapter in my life. The right therapy dog is a teacher, a window into empathy and compassion, a reflection of what I need as well as what others need.

What a rich legacy.

And now Zinnia, I am not sure yet what her message is, it might be years before it is clear or revealed to me.

She may be my last dog or one of them.

She may continue the therapy dog work of Red in her way, or guide me to some different outcome or direction. It would be wrong to guess. Stay with me to see.

I trust my dogs.

Each one has marked a passage in my life.

Each one led me to a different place in my life. Each one made me a better human being.

They taught me to listen as well as talk, think as well as assume, be humble in the face of these alien creatures and admit what I do not know.

They taught me empathy, patience, acceptance, and respect for the other. And they urged me to be happy and live by my own measure, not the dictates of others.

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(The piece was not published before I got a bunch of messages asking “what about Fate?”, and “what about Izzy?” Why not add Homer or Lucky, while we’re at it?

I’m taking a deep breath but responding. Fate is a wonderful dog but she did not alter my life in the way Orson or Red did. She might yet, or her meaning might become clear to me one day.

If I did get such a message from her, I would have included it in the piece. The list is not about dogs I love, but about dogs that have guided me into altering the path of my life. 

Every dog I have ever had has not done that.

Every dog is not the same, every dog is not a spirit dog, some dogs have messages that aren’t clear for a long time, some are great dogs who are not about messages. And thanks for the lovely comments I did  receive about this piece.)