This I Believe

Saul - Sausalito, California
Entered on February 22, 2007
Age Group: 30 - 50
  • Podcasts

    Sign up for our free, weekly podcast of featured essays. You can download recent episodes individually, or subscribe to automatically receive each podcast. Learn more.

  • FAQ

    Frequently asked questions about the This I Believe project, educational opportunities and more...

  • Top Essays USB Drive

    This USB drive contains 100 of the top This I Believe audio broadcasts of the last ten years, plus some favorites from Edward R. Murrow's radio series of the 1950s. It's perfect for personal or classroom use! Click here to learn more.

I believe in dog.

I know, I know. Very cute. Bumper sticker religiosity. Ha-ha.

Nonetheless…I believe in dog. Have you ever just hung out with a dog. I don’t mean took one for a walk, or fed the neighbor’s weimer-doodle while they were on Maui. I mean – hung out with a dog. Down on the ground, laying their, fake napping, staring into his or her eyes and thought a mile in their paws. Don’t laugh. This is real. I found faith in all of everything one morning in the baleful eyes of the beautiful Soleil, my 12 yr. old pure-bred stray dog.

I was just watching her. She was lying on our deck looking out over the calm of Richardson Bay. She was watching a greater egret and a gaggle of grebe hunting for herring. She was so calm and attentive. I watched her for the longest time and I started that slippery slope of ambling morning musing – “I wonder what she is thinking about? I mean, do dogs think?” I continued the slide – “maybe she is reminiscing about something. Maybe she is thinking about that time at Big Sur when she was three. She looks so happy.”

That’s what got me. She didn’t look like she was blankly staring out to sea. She looked deep in thought. I got up out of my chair and I laid down next to her, my face right next to hers. We stared into each others eyes for what seemed like forever. I fell into her eyes. I could see that she was perfectly happy, perfectly content. There was no conflict, no fear, no questioning. No scheming, no ambition, no insecurity. You might think, “well there was nothing, she’s a dog!” But there was something…there was everything. Her eyes were full of everything and nothing occupying the same instant, like quanta co-existing on two edges of a universe. Her eyes were full of pure contentment, balanced on an indivisible, infinite edge of her being. It was…incredible. In an instant I fell deeper in love than I had ever fallen before in my life. I fell totally in.

Then she licked me across right eyeball.

Whoa. I believe in dog. For this I believe.