Grinnan - Always by my side: life lessons from Millie and all the dogs Ive loved

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For Mike Emrick;

and for my nieces, Clare and Rachel,

who were taught to care.

Y oure going to love reading this book.

As you flip through the pages your appreciation and admiration for Edward Grinnan will quickly evolve. Edward is a writer with the gift of taking the most mundane story and turning it into a profound life lesson. Hes a writers writer, a role model, and a cheerleader to dozens of aspiring authors. As the editor-in-chief of Guideposts, hes wise, funny, honest, and endearing. I am fortunate to call him my friend.

If youre reading this book, you more than likely have had a dog touch your life. Edward writes about the dogs hes known and loved with chapters that detail his own life journey. And it seems that each step of his path included a dog walking by his side. The dogs Edward writes about are more than dogs, though. I am convinced that many were angels in disguise, canines who could easily have been mistaken as instruments of God. Youll meet Pete, the dog who helped him grieve the death of his brother with Down syndrome, and Rudy, who sat at his side during AA meetings. It was Rudy who introduced him to Julee, the woman who would become his wife. Theres Marty and Sally and Millie... I defy anyone to read the story of Millie and come away with dry eyes. Interspersed with the stories of the dogs who have changed him, Edward weaves in tales of others who have experienced what can only be explained as the divine intervention of finding exactly the dog they needed and who needed them at exactly the right time.

I can say this with confidence because of the dogs that have been a part of our family. Over the years, Wayne and I have had several dogs. When our children were young, we took in a stray and named him Spot. He was a mid-sized dog of indeterminate breed who we should have entered into the Ugly Dog contest. White with one large black spot on his back, he loved our children, chased after sticks, and quickly knit his way into our home and into our hearts. He was loyal, trusting, tolerant as our little ones hugged and tried to ride him like a horse. At times, I wondered if God hadnt sent Spot as a babysitter and companion for me as I managed four toddlers.

Later there was Gypsy, the collie our neighbor found abandoned on the freeway. And then two dogs we named Peterkins, along with cats, guinea pigs, ducks, goats, a horse, chickens, and an assortment of other beasts.

The second Peterkins lived for seventeen years, and when he died, Wayne and I decided our time for pets was over. All the kids were grown and had families of their own. This was our time, we thought, and pets would only weigh us down. Our resolve lasted five years.

I was the one who gave in. Wed gone to visit friends, and their neighbor had a litter of puppies who needed good homes. One look at Bogie and I couldnt resist. A few months after Bogie became a part of our family, our son Dale took his life. Only those who have buried a child can fully appreciate what that does to the human heart. The grief was overwhelming, the pain intolerable. For weeks, I wandered around in a fog of pain so deep it hurt to breathe. Through it all my constant companion was Bogie. It was as if he knew I needed someone to hold. I know beyond a doubt God sent Wayne and me this special dog. Bogie became our comfort dog.

Scripture states in Hebrews 13:2 that God sends angels in our lives and they often come disguised as humans and, I believe, as dogs. If you have any doubts, all you need to do is turn the page. The dogs/angels are there with tale upon tale from the talented pen of Edward Grinnan. As he reminds us in the subtlest of ways, dog is God spelled backward.

I cant imagine life without a dog to love and be loved by.

The love between humans and dogs is not the same as the love between humans. We love our own differently, sometimes better and sometimes worse than we love our dogs. The bond between man and dog is unencumbered by much of the baggage we bring to a human relationship. Some might say it is purer. Ill leave it as being something different.

Dogs love us in a fashion other humans cant. They love us in a way we cant necessarily love back. Their survivalfrom the time man and canine forged their unique and miraculous bondhas depended on them seeing deep inside of us, into our thoughts and emotions and desires. Into our very souls. I know my dogs have understood me better than most people do, better than I often do myselflike an instrument of heaven sent to guide me. The physically blind use Seeing Eye dogs to navigate their lives. But there are those of us who have been blind spiritually and emotionally, and who have discovered that a dog can help lead us into the light, a dog who grasps our deepest needs, who assuages our most profound anxieties, who uncovers both our faults and our virtues, a dog who believes in us. In short, a dog that makes us a better human being.

In my life, one such dog was Millie. And there is one fateful walk with her I will never forget, which is where this story begins.

MILLIE, AKA MILLIE JO M C CALLISTER (born in the deep South), aka Millicent Johanna de Flanders (her sire was Flemish), aka Millicent!!! when she was bad (which was rarely) or just plain everyday MJ, was my eight-year-old Devon cream golden retriever, large and muscular, taking after her mother, but so decidedly feminine in deportment and temperament that it outraged me whenever someone mistook her for a boy.

Like all the dogs in my life, Millie seemed to be at my side the moments I needed her most, even if I didnt realize it at the time. On occasion Millie led me to a world only she and her kind are blessed to glimpse, a world of discernment and insight and intuition and knowledge that can defy human comprehension... endowed, I believe, by God. I never cease to be amazed, and never more so than on that muddy March day.

I hadnt planned to go to Massachusetts that weekend, but my wife, Julee, a singer, had back-to-back rehearsals for an upcoming performance, so Millie and I ventured north from New York City to check out our little weekend place in the Berkshires, some 120 miles as the proverbial crow flies (we drove). I was anxious to see how the house had fared over the rude winter.

We took the serpentine Taconic Parkway, which once we got out of Westchester County was largely devoid of traffic. Millie sat in back, staring at the colorless landscape, all grays and browns punctuated by a ragged patchwork of dirty white. Ive often wondered how the world looks through the senses of a dog. Did it look as monochromatic to her? As dreary? What did she see that I didnt see? At one point, I had to brake hard at the sight of a highway patrol car lurking in the trees. Millie braced herself against the front seat.

It would be nice if you could alert me to these things, Mil, I said with a laugh, reaching back to restrain her. I glanced in the rearview and saw her bright pink tongue drooping from the side of her mouth. Weve taught dogs to do many things but not yet to detect sneaky New England speed traps.