I learned more from a 68-pound stubborn, quirky, black lab who spoke not a word of English and ignored me more than I would like to admit, than I have learned from any person I have encountered. In his 15 years, he showed me what was important, how life should be. In so doing, he taught me who I wanted to be. And he had no idea of any of it. That is the true blessing of our furry soulmates, they just live life, unaware of the indelible mark they are making.

Murdock taught me to find joy in the simplicity of life. For a left-brained, highly analytical person like myself, that is not an easy lesson. I watched how he was so excited to go for a walk, even if we had walked the same way hundreds of times before, maybe even that very day. I watched how he would lay on my deck, peacefully waiting for a squirrel to cross the yard, sometimes lifting his nose in the air as an interesting smell wafted by. I watched him run to his squeaky toy after he was given an especially good treat, rolling and rolling on it, as if he was trying to communicate his gratitude, without the benefit of words. I try to look at the world differently now. Life can be so very complicated – but it doesn’t always have to be. The moments that bring us happiness are usually the most simple of times.

Murdock taught me that love is not words. Love is actions. Murdock was never an affectionate guy, but he relied on me, he trusted me. He watched my every move. He synced his daily life with mine. When he heard the squeak of a particular closet, he knew I was getting my shoes for a walk. When I folded laundry, he knew it was Saturday night, and he barked at me for ice cream. He knew that on Sunday mornings, we slept in. His trust was never more evident than when he battled cancer and aging. I try so hard to be strong and independent in life, and I am – but relying on others, trusting others, is not a sign of weakness, it can be the strongest form of love.

I didn’t know it, but Murdock was also teaching me how to go on when he couldn’t any longer. Losing my furry soulmate has been the most difficult experience of my life. It is hard – every single day. But his spirit, and all that he taught me, refuses to leave my soul. And so, he is just as alive and present to me as he ever was, just in a different way. Believing this has helped me immensely. I have been able to embrace my grief, and carry it with me – it is a part of me now, and because it belongs to Murdock, it is precious. I don’t ever have to say goodbye – not to what he meant to me, not to our life together, not to what he taught me. That has been the most important lesson of all.