The Inner Life of Dogs
July 27 2010


The inner life of dogs
is not cluttered with thought
regret, recrimination.
My dog lives in the permanent present,
where movement, sensation
fill every molecule of her being,
the physicality of the immediate world.

She is fast, hard, persistent,
everything a competition.
Yet generous in her love,
which is unconditional, unstinting.
And which is why
of all the warm-blooded creatures
this is the one
we chose to be our companion.
Loyal canis familiaris,
sharing our food, our homes
our beds.

This question of the inner life
answers itself;
which is
that it’s not really so important as I thought.
Because she is deeply content
no matter what.
She lives with unquestioning intensity,
without introspection
or the perspective of death
that conditions human existence.
She has taught me there is much to be said
for merely being present.

I watch as she sits
very still,
noble nose twitching
gazing into the distance
taking it in.
She seems dignified, thoughtful,
and I haven’t the least idea
what she thinks.
I know she sees the world differently,
and I mean this in the literal sense
of vision, sound, and smell.
She inhabits a parallel universe of scent,
experiences whole orders of magnitude
that leave me clueless.
This idiot savant,
this genius of smell.

I watch her chase a stick,
fiercely relentless
all kamikaze recklessness,
her laser-focused eyes
a mile wide
with the pure momentary joy
of life.
Which consists of food and sleep and fun,
as well as the reassuring touch
of her loyal human companion.

Some think this love
is less worthy
than filial, fraternal, romantic.
I disagree.
It is real, and deep.

Really, all one needs
of the inner life.