I Love My Dog

​I love my dog.
 
Anyone who knows me, knows this. Plus I have written about her many, many times on this—I’ve Just Gotta Say This—blog. Because she is just amazing. And smart. And oh my, so gorgeous and perfect. And amazing. Did I say amazing? She is.
 
What makes her so is not the fact that she is probably one of the most beautiful dogs. She has this truly lovely face. And she is lean. And her coat is so shiny. She was pick of litter. Her collar was pink. She was called Miss Pink until I named her Nava. Which means beautiful in Hebrew. She is beautiful. And very fancy. Very well bred and very well kept. So she is fancy. And just so beautiful.
 
And it’s not the fact that she is smart. So smart. She can learn anything. She knows so many things. She hasn’t learned more things because we haven’t learned how to teach them to her. I say we, but I really mean he. As in my husband. He is the teacher of new Nava tricks and tasks. He loves to work her. She loves when he works her. He needs to learn new tricks and new tasks so he can teach her new tricks and new tasks. She learns them in like two tries. This is how smart she is.
 
But it’s not these things.
 
What makes her so extraordinary is her soul. She is my soul dog. Truly. She is. She is my grounding rod. My stability. She is the place I rest my spirit, often as I lay myself on top of her. She is that big. And strong. And she can hold the weight of me, both my body and my heart. Held by her body and her soul.
 
Nava reads my mind. And I read hers. We both have a bit of anxiety and I wonder, sometimes, if she has mine or if I have hers. A whole separate writing I will reflect on another time. For now, I will simply say that our minds are attached. I will think a thought and she is there, ready for what escapes from my head and into hers. She will think a thought and an image will come to my mind. And I know exactly what she needs. We are connected in this quite incredible way.
 
She knows I am writing about her, right now.