Our little dog, Eli the pug, was killed the day after we left him with good friends in Portland. He got out of their house and was trying to make it the two miles home, crossed a very busy street and was run over. Krista and I were drinking coffee in the evening after having driven 18 hours down the west coast to Los Angeles when she received the call. Pretty bad stuff. Some dogs are just dogs. Some dogs become an active member of the family fabric.
It was painful to share it with the kids but it gave us a chance to talk about the kind of love that would cause a creature of this earth to pass through real mortal danger to seek it out. I’ve been contemplating that for two days now and thinking about all the times I’ve not been that creature to my wife and my family. Heavy lesson from a little black pug.
