Willie
There are countless scenes in movies whether they be classic or currently screening, where two people, whether they be two lovers, father and son, or two dear friends, would run towards each other and embrace each other in love. Many times the director ordered that it be presented in slow motion for emotional effect. Many times it brings a tear to the most hardened soul.
But how many of us ever experience a real life scene like that? The closest I’ve ever experienced were my children when they were little when I arrived home. “Daddy!!!” And they would come running. I must confess. In my memories, as cherished as they are, I never ran. I locked down and braced myself for the jump into my arms. Perhaps it was because I didn’t want to pummel my child. Or maybe because I grew out of it. Because, let’s be honest, my kids eventually grew out of it.
But Willie always ran to greet me. No matter what he was doing he dropped it and ran to me. Even if we had had a prior disagreement, all forgotten. He would run and jump into my arms and give me licks of affection.
Hopefully you’ve figured out that Willie was a dog and not a psychotic over stimulated chemically imbalanced neighbor.
Seriously though. Willie was my best friend. I have no idea what his IQ was or if they even register such a thing with dogs. But I know one thing, he was smart enough to teach me so many things. I have been blessed with people throughout my life who have shown me unconditional love, but Willie taught me what it looks like to live it out consistently. I have also been blessed by people who have been loyal to me, but no one walked the walk like Willie. While some would talk the talk, I would take Willie’s bark over their words any day. He was my defender. I had to be careful with this one. When people would come over to the house I would have to make sure he was inside so I could let them in another door downstairs, let him go outside and come to the door and let him back in with them already inside. Some people I could tell were a little rattled by this which I understood. However, unless they made me aware of a deep-seated fear of dogs, thems were the rules, established by Willie. Even I wasn’t immune to these rules. When I would come home, he would bark protecting our home until he knew it was me. Once vetted, it was twisting of the body, wagging of the tail, and adoration. Most people who learned the drill were willing to deal with the somewhat annoying vetting process to get the “Okay, not only are you cleared, but I completely welcome you to our home.”
