Zig Ziglar - Conversations with My Dog

To my daughter and granddog
Cindy Ziglar Oates and Emmitt

Cindy's loving maneuvering brought Taffy (Dirty Dog) into our lives, and for that we are eternally grateful. Emmitt, her therapy dog and constant companion, made life better for the people he helped in hospitals and nursing homes, and he made life better for Dirty Dog by being his best friend.

Preface

I f you are familiar with me and know my basic outlook on life, you are probably wondering, What on earth is Zig going to do with a title like this? The answer is simple. I'm going to write the book based on conversations with my dog. I chose this format because it gives me the freedom to move in many different directions.

Taffy, our little Welsh Corgi dog, came to live with us early in 1995, a few months before the death of our oldest daughter, Suzan. My daughters Cindy and Julie had collaborated with their mother to bring him into the household through some questionable, though admittedly clever, female strategies. They honestly believed that I would welcome and love him once I saw him. Much to their delight, it took Taffy less than a minute to take control of the entire familyincluding yours truly. As you can see by his portrait, he is a handsome dog, rich in color, with a heritage that all of us would envy; a personality that wins hearts everywhere; and attitudes that change often enough that anybody's got to like at least one of them.

He is a delight to have around and a marvelous companion for my wife during those times when I'm traveling. He's an extremely personable and entertaining little dog and has brought us many moments of joy As you will see when you read the book, he also has an awesome sense of humor.

Simple example: My wife Jean, whom I affectionately refer to as The Redhead when I'm talking about her, and Sugar Baby when I'm talking to her, often tells him that he is a handsome dog. It didn't take much to convince him that she was right. Never will I forget the day when I walked down the stairs and noticed that Taffy was lying on the sofa. The Redhead keeps a sheet over it to give him a comfortable place for his frequent naps. We have his portrait on the wall near the sofa, and as I reached the bottom step I noticed that he was looking at the portrait of himself. Looking at it, he would cock his head to the left and then he would cock his head to the right. I asked him, Dirty Dog, what are you doing?

He smiled broadly, shifting quickly into a smug look and said, I'm just looking, Dad. You know, I really am a good-looking dog!

I agreed with him wholeheartedly. Even though I've nicknamed him Dirty Dog, and I say it with great affection, his royal bloodlines are easy to spot when you look into his regal eyes and stroke his plush coat. I'll explain later how Dirty Dog's nickname came about.

I realized I wanted to make Dirty Dog my coauthor after an event that took place in our backyard. I looked out the back window that brutally hot August day and saw Dirty Dog walking about ten feet behind the neighbor's cat. His tongue was hanging out about as far as it could go, and the cat didn't look much better than he did. Knowing his lack of affection for that particular cat, I called him in and asked him what was going on. In the midst of his panting and laborious breathing he explained that he was chasing that cat and had almost caught him when I called him in. I couldn't believe my ears! Dirty Dog, you were both walking! What do you mean you were chasing him?

Well, Dad, it's so hotand both of us have fur coats. So we were walking instead of running.

Dirty Dog had a sly little grin on his face when he made that last comment. I don't need to tell youthat broke me up and sealed the coauthor deal.

As you read the book I believe you will discover that Dirty Dog has wide-ranging interests, unusual insights, asks fascinating questions, and sometimes gives startling answers to my questions. Our conversations cover many facets of life, including everything from faith to health, character, relationships, common sense, and any number of other subjects.

I hope you enjoy examining life from Dirty Dog's perspective. I can honestly say that I feel lighter hearted and happier for having done so myself. Now let's get on with the story. Dirty Dog is anxious for me to tell you how all of this came about.

The Genesis

I 'll bet you are wondering, How do you have conversations with a dog, and what on earth would a man and his dog talk about? Good thought...good question.

A number of years ago, my older brother, Preacher Huie Ziglar, who lived in South Alabama, had a dog named Old Bullet. He was a wonderful old dog of mixed heritage, questionable morals, and a penchant for disappearing a day or two at a time. Nevertheless, deep down he had a heart of gold and was loyal to my brother and his family. In his own way he had strong core values, was sensitive, and was a delight to have around. It wasn't until he was in the declining years of his life that I realized Old Bullet was quite a philosopher and carried on some rather extended conversations with my brother. I was privileged to be in on one of them and heard Old Bullet uttering some words of pain and disappointment.

It seems that a stray cat had wandered into the yard and my brother had taken her in, fed her, and made her feel welcome. Old Bullet was out for a walk when the newcomer arrived and was somewhat upset when he returned to discover the new addition. He immediately recognized that he was considerably larger than the cat, and being the gentleman he was he didn't take out his anger and frustration on her but instead went directly to the person who could do something about it. With a mournful face and sadness in his voice Old Bullet said to my brother, I can't believe you've done this! I've been a faithful dog, a good companion to you and your family. I've protected your interests and run off some big rats and squirrels, not to mention stray dogs that were up to no good. I've never had to go to the vet for anything; I've eaten very little, and most of that was scraps. And yet you take in a complete stranger. Did you really think I would not be upset about this? After all, I've been here several years, and I never once considered going to someone else's place except maybe for a short visit to one of my lady friends, and yet you take in this other animaland a cat at that! I know it's your place and you don't have to explain, but in light of our relationship I would feel better if you did.

My brother, because of his pastoral background and experience in dealing with disgruntled church members who could be quite cantankerous, had a ready explanation for Old Bullet. He said, First of all, let me remind you that when I took you in years ago you were skin and bones and weren't much good for anything except eating and sleeping. Yet I never complained or expected much from you except your loyalty and an occasional tail-wagging expression of appreciation. It's true you've been a loyal and good companion, and I believe I've been more than fair with you. I've never raised my hand in anger against you; I've never even really spoken harshly to you except on one occasion when you chased a car and I was afraid you'd get hurt. Not only that, Old Bullet, but to be candid, you have lost a step or two these last two or three years. I even thought I detected signs of loneliness in your countenance during those times when you were lying on the front porch, watching traffic pass without so much as lifting your head. I thought it might be nice for you to have a companion. Actually, this little cat is no threat to you. You'll always be first in my heart and you and I still have some good years together, so let's make our little friend welcome. Who knows...you might develop a relationship that will give you much joy and delight. I can tell you thisshe'll take the heat off you in the rat-catching department because she can go into smaller places than you can.