This is a love story. I became a first-time dog owner six years ago and had no idea how my life would change when our four-legged angel came into my life.  I didn’t grow up with pets unless you count hermit crabs, which I do not.  My parents had all sorts of reasons for our dog less deprivation– we traveled too much, it was too much work – but really, they never got over the loss of their dog Bonnie, who passed away right before my brother was born.

Wyatt Baxter came home with us on Feb 12, a perfect Valentine’s gift for the entire family.  He was 14 pounds of love and had I realized how quickly he’d grow, his paws would not have touched the ground for the first few months of his life. 

We hit the dog lottery with Wyatt.  He is sweet, calm, loving and the most mellow Labrador you’ll ever meet.  He doesn’t walk, he saunters.  He doesn’t bark.  He’s the dog park greeter, racing over to say hello to the other dog owners every morning.  I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love my husband and kids, but I was wrong.  They’ll be the first to tell you that he’s the favorite in the house.  If you met him, I’m sure you’d agree.

Most everyone understands the joy of dog ownership.  Without a doubt, they are angels on earth.  Wyatt has opened my world in a way that I never could have imagined, beyond the obvious unconditional love and companionship.  Every morning, after school drop off and before work, we hit the dog park.  My dog park friends are of all ages and from all walks of life.  At the dog park, in a town where political parties can divide, dogs unite.  Perhaps our members of Congress should come to Old Town to work things out – it’s hard to get annoyed with the “other side” when your dogs are playing together with abandon. 

We discuss the hard and happy at the park – the personal trials and the joys. We support one another, throw balls, feed treats, and discuss diets (for the dogs, not us).  There is something about spending every morning with people – in your messiest dog park clothes, hair unbrushed, makeup-free – that allows you to let your guard down.  We discuss it all, work through issues, and help each other out while the dogs play. Some of my best travel advice has originated at the dog park.    We’ve celebrated the birth of new babies, the death of loved ones, and mourned with those who have lost their beloved dogs. 

Many of my sentences begin, “My friend from the dog park…” because, in a time when I still mostly work remotely, the dog park is where I’m guaranteed to interact in person with someone outside of my family. 

Wyatt has taught me how to slow down and be present, reminded me to greet everyone, embrace dirty clothes as a badge of honor because that means a dog jumped on you, shown me that we all have more in common than our differences, and guaranteed that I’ll never be lonely.  

Thanks to Wyatt, I will be a dog owner for life.