By Mike Rubin
It has been three weeks and tears still flow from my eyes when I say Murphy’s name, when I think about our walks together, when I look at his photo…
Murphy was more than just a dog to me…
I have had other dogs – and all were special – but none were Murphy…
Perhaps because Murphy was there for me 10 years ago when Marlin died, and he made it his mission to make sure I knew that I was never alone…
Perhaps because he knew when I most appreciated him snuggling up and urging me to pet him, and how he showed his contentment when I took the time to scratch his forehead, or rub his belly, or knead the fur under his chin…
Perhaps because I loved how he was so enthusiastic when it was time for a walk, and how he churned his short little legs like pistons when he got going, and how he insisted on stopping to smell the flowers along the way (a clear message to me to do the same)…
Perhaps because people complimented me on how handsome he was, and how smart he was …
Perhaps because, during the pandemic, when we were all isolated in our homes, Murphy was a constant companion … under my “work from home” desk near my feet, following me when I moved between rooms, jumping on the bed at night, leaving the bedroom when I left, always close …
Now, when I look at Murphy’s photo, smelling a red flower, I choke up and the tears roll…
But I know that he carried me through the solitude of the pandemic, waiting till we were securely through the tunnel before his big heart gave out …
And I know that the tears will turn to sweet memories…
As I reflect upon these days of Elul, I am grateful for almost 15 years with my amazing pal Murphy, and I pray (paraphrasing the Bellamy brothers) – Lord, help me be the kind of person my dog thought I was.
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