Runt Of The Litter

He remembered seeing him. The runt of the litter, and somehow before even petting him, he already had a name picked out. “He was a cute one that little guy”, Jay thought to himself. Those marshy eyes and wobbly stance, standing behind eleven other puppies awaiting his turn. 

It’s a funny feeling isn’t it, picking out a pet that is. You have so many options yet somehow you just know which one is right for you. As if by some magical reason you were meant to be together. He couldn’t explain why, but something about the way he patiently waited, reminded him a little bit of himself. They both lacked confidence, not so much intimidated by their surroundings but rather unsure about the consequences of their choices. And much like he observed all the puppies, Jay examined his behavior in the midst of the chaos unfolding before him: the dense pile of shuffling puppies fighting amongst themselves eager to breast feed, pawing on top of one another much like society does in an attempt to progress. 

There’s something to be learned from simple observations, Jay realized as he watched his fuzzy friend. Most of us crack under the pressure of influence, pursuing what everyone does, but not his friend. He wasn’t driven by desire. He’d much rather stand alone than to conform to their behavior, even if it meant being hungry just a little bit longer. 

Perhaps this is how people picked out pets, Jay inquired. They projected themselves onto them, believing that whatever actions pets had were somehow similar to ours. The more you examine someone’s demeanor, the more you see patterns that make us somewhat comparable to one another, bridging the gap between us and them. Thus, a connection is formed and our furry little friends are now just as much a part of us as we are of them. One look into those innocent eyes, and we feel their compassion, their love, their joy and everything we’ve ever wanted from someone we have in a fluffy little package.

We buy pets because perhaps there’s a void inside of us that we can’t fill, and our attention is rewarded by appeasing gestures of humble submission. On the contrary, our lack of attention is a prime example of areas that are lacking, and we get conformation of that when our pets begin to suffer for it. The more Jay delved into this philosophical insight in the midst of watching his new-found friend, the more he began to see how selfish he had been his whole life. Questioning whether he would have made the same decision to wait for his turn. You see us humans are driven by desires, mislead by our surroundings, misinformed by society to believe that there’s only one right way to do everything. We see what everyone does and we retrace their footsteps, compromising our values for such a small gain. It catches up to us later in life when we see how selfish these habits have conditioned us to be. 

Jay struggled with this growing up. Generally going through the motions, he never really questioned his actions. Everything was a mechanical response, and it dawned on him how much of what he lived had been a series of reactions. Constantly making everything about him, he’d ignore the opportunities presented to him to be able to change. That’s the irony in life. We pray for answers, and we get them in the form of questions; riddles for us to ponder and conjure up our own definitions of them. The most humorous thing of them all, is that epiphanies don’t occur like they do in movies. There isn’t anything drastic happening in the background, music doesn’t play, time doesn’t freeze, the sky doesn’t open up while light shines down at your feet. It happens right here, right now, as you’re observing your pet distinguish himself right before you. 

We often believe that life happens to us, not for us. We play the role of the victim, blindly going through the motions, missing out on its wonders. Jay was open to this after that day. He was moved, shifted towards a grander perspective. He could only imagine if wisdom could derive from such a modest experience, what more could he learn if he perceived the world around him with such curiosity. Perhaps the answers he’s always searched for were never written in the stars to begin with, and all that he seeked was to be uncovered in the form of experience. It was a relieving discovery, to know that just maybe he was exactly where he needed to be in that moment; and that every other moment preceding him, played an essential role in the development of his character, essentially leading him down this path.

Melo. That was his name. An abbreviated form of his sense of calmness and relaxation. A tribute to a characteristic that comes with age and experience. Thirteen years into the future, and Jay still gets to see him in his backyard and appreciate the insight he received that day. He remembers how small he was in comparison back then, tiny enough to set him on his pillow, courteous enough to walk down from the bed when he had to poop. Of course, dog years come in multiples of seven, and he was much older now. Still strong, still healthy, but not what he once used to be. Jay tries not to focus so much on the times that they’ve shared, but rather shifts his attention to the time they have left together. It kills him to know that someday he’ll have to let go, and when that day comes, he’ll have all the time in the world to remember those good old days. Maybe that’s another lesson in itself. Maybe that’ll be the final lesson his fuzzy little friend ever teaches him.

As he lifts the puppy up, Jay gently brushes his hand across the soft fur of his beloved pal, grateful for his existence.