Epilogue

SEVEN-YEAR-OLD LEAF CURLS UP NEXT TO ME ON OUR LIVING ROOM couch with his head propped on my knee. He has matured into a fine gentleman who is devoted and still incapable of hiding his happiness. If I lift up his ears, on their underside I can see threads of white hair mixed within the curly black. He’s getting older, and so am I. Each day I have been given to spend with him is a day I cherish. He is a fully well-adjusted member of our family.

Gently, I stroke the fur along his spine and whisper, “Leaf, you are the best.” Bleary-eyed, he looks up at me, and I feel his love. We are two souls who entered each other’s lives when we most needed the healing power of human-animal friendship.

Leaf loves it when we touch him now. Even strangers can pet Leaf as long as they don’t lurch at him and attempt to grasp his cute head in their hands. When someone displays that level of rudeness and attempts to invade his space, we show the person how to approach Leaf, or any dog, so as not to appear threatening.

My hope is that anyone who reads this book will be reminded of dogs they have loved. Perhaps these pages will inspire and nudge them into thoughts about the spiritual significance of the dogs in their lives. Maybe readers will ask themselves, as I have, Why this dog? Why now? and be enlightened by the answers.

Right now Leaf and I are two guys sitting on a couch, close buddies who have experienced the frontlines of life and have made our way together. The push and pull of the journey has stretched us. But in the end we have become stronger, more trusting and loving. We’re better at getting back up after life knocks us down. We’re ready for whatever the new day brings.