Just Keep Barking: Life Lessons from a Fearless Dog

When I was six years old, my hero was a Whippet named Cisco. I followed him around the yard, on walks, and even into the fur-coated furnace room where Cisco and his cousin, Indy, preferred to sleep during the colder months. Once, while trying to feel more like a member of his two-dog pack, I resorted to eating a handful of Cisco’s kibble—turns out that kibble is rough on a human mouth, and tastes a lot like swamp water. I wouldn’t recommend it.

Over the years, my four-legged friend taught me so much. He was there when I learned to walk, providing a shoulder for me to lean on. He taught me to be careful where I put my food, because unless it was six feet off the ground or locked in the fridge, nothing edible in the house was safe. He taught me about the thrills of chasing deer and squirrels through the woods, and the joys of eating huckleberries right off the bush. His presence taught me to cook, because I was determined to bake the very best peanut butter cookies or mashed potato and salmon cakes for his birthday each year.

Most of all, Cisco taught me about the responsibility of caring for another living, breathing being. Although I have two amazing parents and two terrific younger sisters to share the dog-related responsibilities with, I was determined to look after many of Cisco’s needs myself, especially as he approached the end of his life. When it was time for him to take his glucose pills (which he hated with the fiery passion of a thousand burning suns), I would cut up little squares of cheddar cheese to hide them in. And when he inevitably swallowed the cheese and spit the pills back out, I tried again and again until all the supplements went down.

Through his countless exciting and dangerous experiences, Cisco taught me the power of perseverance. From the time he ate rat poison and was rushed to the vet in a fire boat, to the time he got in a fight with a raccoon and had to get fifteen stiches in his flank and tail, Cisco never let anything slow him down for long. Despite his many brushes with death, he always bounced back as strong as ever, ready to chase down his next adventure as soon as the vet-prescribed “cone of shame” came off.

As Cisco grew older and his puppyish vigor waned, he taught me to enjoy the twilight years of life. Sun-basking replaced squirrel hunts, and slow, leisurely strolls through the woods took precedence over racing around the house. Despite his increasing stiffness, Cisco never gave up the things he loved. Arthritis and old age couldn’t stop him from barking at raccoons (or his own echo) and prowling the kitchen in search of delicious scraps.

When his cousin and life-long companion, Indy, died, Cisco taught me the importance of friendship and mourning. Getting through the loss of Indy was especially hard on my parents (Indy was their first child), and having Cisco around helped soften the blow of his death. And a few years later, when we adopted a neurotic rescue collie named Sadie, Cisco’s love for her showed me that it’s possible to move on and make new friends even when the old ones are gone.

Even after Cisco’s death at the ripe old age of thirteen-and-a-half, the things he taught me continue to affect the course of my life. My writing muse throughout childhood, it is because of him that I first picked up a pencil and started writing stories.

Now, as I go on to college and plan my writing career, I keep a picture of him—my original idol and muse—with me always to preserve the amazing and important lessons he taught me during his short but action-packed stint on earth. Whenever I get too wrapped up in the responsibilities and fears of approaching adulthood, Cisco’s memory reminds me to always do what you love (whether that be chasing down squirrels or pursuing a writing career), and when the world knocks you down, get back up and just keep barking.

What have your pets taught you? Let us know in the comments below!