At my house there is a beagle whom I love with all of my heart as a member of my own family. In fact, I recently dated a woman who was allergic to dogs, and I told her that I would accommodate her by not replacing him but that I would not disown him. He is still there while she is not, so I guess I made the right choice. I have known him basically all of his life, and today I realized that he has quite literally saved mine. I was talking with some professors in physical sciences about dogs, and it dawned on me that he's one of the reasons that I am still alive.
In truth, he probably figures he owes me a blood debt. When he was a puppy, I found him one morning wedged between the dog house and the fence upside down. He was cold and whimpering, and while he resisted my first attempts to free him, once he was free, he would not leave my side or stop licking my face. He no longer licks my face much, but I know he loves me as his actions since then would attest. When I was divorced, my ex wife threatened to have him put to sleep unless I paid her $1000 and came to get him which I did because I cared. She just wanted the money.
Several times since then, he has saved my life literally and obviously. While out walking in the desert one day with a second beagle, we came upon a pack of coyotes near their den. The two beagles looked at each other and then took off after the coyotes who finally scattered after my faithful pack mates had slain two of their own. My beagle was nine months old at the time and still has battle scars from the encounter today. Shortly thereafter, I was walking with him and a german shepherd my ex wife owned behind our garage when a rattlesnake went to strike me. The shepherd ran between us and took the hit, and my beagle decided that he should do that too. The two of them then would go hunting and leave me rattlesnake carcasses on the front porch as gifts. I was not always pleased with their work, but I was pleased that they were pleased with themselves.
I do not know how I would have survived life since moving to Vegas without him. He is there every night almost (except when I leave him with my parents), and he is almost always excited to see me even if I step on his foot or kick him in the side because he's underfoot. I have learned so much from him about forgiveness and unconditional love. Somehow, although he cannot speak and doesn't make noise, he knows when I'm having a bad day or when I'm having a good one. He loves to just be in the room with me while I work even if I am not paying attention to him at the time, and he greets me in the morning when I leave the house to exercise with bright eyes and a swishing tail. Sometimes he even curls up in a chair next to the couch while I do my thing and just hangs out with me. It is nice to have someone or at least something there when I come "home" after a long day. The house is creepy and empty without him.
My beagle knows that I am alpha, but what he may never understand is that he's my omega. My days end with him; my life would be empty and, at this point at least, ended without him. In both literal as well as figurative ways, he has saved my life, and he keeps saving it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Even though I have dated various women since moving to Vegas six years ago, his picture is the picture on my desktop computer background, because his love has been constant and reliable. There are some days when I really need that.
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