Burma, like all dogs, was better than us
There have been at least three news articles dealing with the death of the late Sen. John McCain’s dog Burma. Three.
Maybe more.
About a dog.
If there ever was an example of the misplaced priorities of the journalistic community this is it, because three (or perhaps more) articles about the loss of a good and loyal dog is ... not nearly enough.
If you have a dog, you know this. The story goes that Burma slept on the late senator’s bed for days after McCain’s death.
It was a lesson, some would suggest, in grief and loyalty and devotion.
But as much as that may be true, it is not the most valuable lesson taught by Burma the dog, or any other dog.
Sen. McCain in his waning days knew the value of a dog’s company, and knew as well that the overused adage about teaching an old dog new tricks is completely wrong. Backward.
The truth is, an old dog (or any dog) can teach us new tricks.
And what they teach us, more than anything, is how to be human.
Or at least they try.
We’re slow learners.
Dogs accept themselves without shame or jealousy. They accept us with no concern for color or creed or gender or political persuasion or wealth. They are always happy to see us. Always.
They hold no grudges. They don’t despair. They don’t complain. They don’t judge.
Most importantly, they live in the moment, not troubling over the past or fretting about the future.
This is what McCain got from Burma each day. It’s what each of us gets from our dogs each day. And what our dogs must teach us, again, the following day. And every day after that. Because we forget.
We take regular walks with the two dogs living in our house, Jack and Minnie.
It’s not something I do for the dogs; it’s something the dogs do for me.
The route and the time of day varies. We might make a big loop south and east, then head north along the old bridle path on 15th Avenue toward a
Dogs hold no grudges. They don’t despair. They don’t complain. They don’t judge.
city park with big open swatches of grass. It’s a good place in the early mornings to spot an urban coyote or two heading home after the night’s adventure.
Jack took off running with the coyotes a couple of times when he was a younger dog.
He’s an old boy, now. Not as spry. Although, there is a lesson in that as well. He would tell you that infirmities have upsides. For example, a dog who happens to lose his hearing (unlike the other dog living in the house) is not bothered – at all – by Fourth of July fireworks.
He would say as well that if your legs go a little lame and you can’t run, then walk. Because the world is lovely at any pace.
And use your nose. Most humans only use their eyes, sometimes even holding their noses to prevent smelling anything, while the world is filled with amazing aromas.
Finally, get plenty of sleep, which according to Jack should be augmented with frequent naps.
I would guess that Burma the dog taught John McCain these lessons every day, and then, when the senator passed away, showed the rest of us an example grief and loyalty and devotion.
I’ve been a news columnist for a very long time and no week passes without a reader calling or writing to inform me that our city or our state or our nation is “going to the dogs.”
If only.