Man’s Best Friend

The first day Tequila came home with me, Naomi – one of Sarah’s friends – said to me, “It seems like you’ve had this dog forever. The way she loves you already is amazing.” She wouldn’t leave my side and cuddled up beside me every time I sat still. From the first day.

She was always my baby. She was passive, well behaved. No matter how many people or stimulants surrounded us, she wouldn’t go anywhere. I’ll never forget the first time I took her to the bar, when Stephen let her in “given her mistress,” and she was leash-less but wouldn’t roam farther than a foot from my heel. She climb onto my bed at night and settle into sleep lying her heavy body across my chest so that I couldn’t move and she could feel my heart beating all night long.

By the end of Sarah's stay, she was acting a little bit more like a dog. She’d chew sticks and learn tricks. She’s chase a ball as long as I was still within 20ft. Martine told me that it’d be cruel of me to give her up, but I couldn’t imagine bringing her back to Boston. Of course, now I won’t be back in Boston for a long time.

As the weeks continued to pass, she grew more and more like a dog. I remember one day I took her to Pamplonne without a leash, like I always did, and she was nothing but trouble. She ran around like a crazy dog, sprinting wildly from patron to patron, spraying everyone with sand and drool. Some of them didn’t mind, laughing instead and giving her treats and loving. Others, however, were extremely angry and annoyed – particularly those on the nude beach… That was the first and only day I had to take her aside and tell her she was being bad. Every day since then and every day before, she listens to every word I say. Granted, nowadays, sometimes she takes a bit longer to act on my commands, but she does do it.

She’s comfortable now. She knows that I will not leave her, abandon her like so many have before. She will always have a family as long as I can help it. When I first took her home I had rescued her from a kennel where her last family dropped her. She feared that I would do the same, I’d leave her if she wasn’t good. She was like a child.

But in a way, she rescued me too. In a constantly changing landscape, she was my only consistent company. She was the only friend who continued to love me loyally, endlessly, unconditionally. Francis pointed this out when he was here. When I leave, she waits in the driveway for my return. If I fall asleep outside, she nudges me awake until I muster up the energy to climb to my third-floor bedroom. “It’s really special,” he told me. “It’s a special you love you two have.” To this day, she hates it when she cannot see me. When she doesn’t know where I am.

She’s so good everyone wants to keep her. One of Sarah G’s friends hated dogs before meeting Tequila. Sylvia thought she was the sweetest thing. Ludo considered adopting her, offering to help if she can’t leave the country. Before I thought it a possibility for me to take her back to my family’s house in the country, when I thought I’d be returning to the city where a dog doesn’t belong, I offered to give the dog to Sarah. She’s thrilled with how wonderful this dog turned out to be. (I’m just not sure I can part with her, now.) Patty’s kids would take her home in a heartbeat. Jesse, my cousin, just told me she’s the best dog ever. I know. I love her like she loves me. She is my best friend.

Dogs really are man’s best friend. They love you endlessly. And in their gentle, persuasive mannerisms, they make you fall endlessly in love for them also. They are the best companions.

Martine insisted cats were better than dogs. How? Cats don’t love you like this. They don’t depend on you for love. It’s like that old quote goes: “Dogs come when they’re called. Cats take a message and get back to you.”