Lucy was right: “Happiness is a warm puppy.” But after years of having dogs, I’d amend that slightly — happiness is any warm dog.
When I got home from work the other day, I came home tired and was ready for a quiet hour on the sofa. True to form, Princess — my loyal Pit Bull mix who still doesn’t believe she’s too big to be a lap dog — curled herself up beside me with her head resting perfectly on my stomach. There’s something incredibly grounding about that weight — her trust, her warmth, her quiet breathing. As Dean Koontz once wrote, “Petting, scratching, and cuddling a dog could be as soothing to the mind and heart as deep meditation and almost as good for the soul as prayer.”
Prayer is still my top-tier peace, but a dog’s companionship comes close.
These days, Princess has a rival in our house — a stray named Samantha who found her way into our lives last May, thanks to Daryl’s good heart. Samantha is the quiet one, careful and gentle, still adjusting to the safety of a real home. Princess, on the other hand, has become a bit of a sneak. She’s perfected the art of stealing food — and shredding the evidence. Wrappers, boxes, bags… nothing is safe when she’s on the prowl. But even when she’s caught red-pawed, her big brown eyes and sweet nature make it impossible to stay mad for long.
Christopher Morley once said, “No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as the dog does.” That still holds true. Whether I’m talking to Princess about my day or coaxing Samantha to trust me just a little more, they both listen with a kind of understanding that transcends words.
I know plenty of people who find that same comfort in their cats. God bless them for it. For me, though, life without dogs would feel hollow. Caroline Knapp said, “Before you get a dog, you can’t quite imagine what living with one might be like; afterward, you can’t imagine living any other way.”
I couldn’t agree more. Whether it’s a faithful old friend or a timid newcomer, there’s nothing quite like the joy of having a warm dog beside you — or, in my case, two.
Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.
