So many things to be grateful for, good feelings and even bad

By Strider the Dog

Dear Strider,

I really love your column — dog folks are so wise! I am wondering if you might devote a piece to Rogue Valley Street Dogs and the work they do in the valley.

This organization provides food, leashes, coats and medical care for unhoused dogs and their owners. The most important thing it does is to provide neutering and spaying. You and Woody are lucky to have a nice warm house and couch to snooze on  — not so for many dogs living in poverty — they are out in the cold and rain.

The president of this organization is Laurie Cuddy, a woman who works 24/7 with street dogs (and cats) and their humans. She is a marvel!

Thank you.

— Linda B.

Dear Linda B.,

I love getting emails from you, Linda B. They always have something great to say about humans caring for dogs. You’re so right. Rogue Valley Street Dogs is doing great work. Our own Ashland.news posted an article about them right before Christmas (“From leashes to lifelines: How Rogue Valley Street Dogs is changing lives”), with more details and information on how to volunteer and where to donate. Very important stuff.

Woody and I are lucky. You’re so right about that too. We know what it’s like out there, and we worry about our fellows outside, especially at this time of year.

(Once upon a time, on a desert far, far away, Shadow and I were street dogs ourselves. I still shiver when I think about it.)

Rogue Valley Street Dogs helps our fellow canines when they need it.

I’m grateful for them. Super grateful.

And for you, too, Linda B! Happy New Year!

Dear Strider,

We chip our dogs with contact info in case they get lost, right? But I had another thought. What if dog chips held all a dog’s memories and experiences so we could know what happened to them before we met?

Wouldn’t that be great? What do you think, Strider?

— Imaginative Doglover

Dear Imaginative,

I used to not agree with you. I used to think it was better to forget all the horrible times that happened in the past, and to never let anyone know about them. All best forgotten, I thought. No use remembering.

But then I realized I’d be forgetting the good things along with the bad. Because they were so mixed up, I couldn’t separate them. Would that mean I couldn’t remember who I am? Without all the things that happened to me? That I felt, good and bad? Who would I be then? Would I be the Strider the Dog that Tod loves?

I think Tod would want to know all my experiences, good and bad. Because she loves me, and what happened to me made the Strider the Dog she loves.

So now I agree with you. It would be great to have that chip! I talked this over with the Old Cedar Tree, and they said we kind of do have it, don’t we? All that stuff is encoded in our bodies, they said. In a dog, in a dog’s body. In a tree, in a tree’s body. In a human, in a human body.

It’s there somehow, if only we knew it. The Old Cedar Tree says we can find it if we look. Especially in dreams.

I’m grateful for that.  And for people who have imagination. Like you.

Dear Strider,

We were so sorry to hear about your pack mate Shadow’s passing. Sending hugs and hopes that when she crossed over the rainbow bridge, it was the best way possible for all of you.

— Been There in Medford

Dear Been There,

Thank you so much, from the bottom of our paws, from Woody and me. It’s so great to be thought of when we’re sad. And yes, it was a very good dog death. I mean, we have to die, and the best possible way to cross over is quietly, with our pack.

Shadow died just before dawn, lying in bed between our two guardians. Woody was there at the bottom of the bed, and I was next to it. We knew the time had come for her to leave us because she began breathing harder than normal. When she died, we were all very sad. We buried her in the rain, in our meadow, where the Old Cedar Tree can watch over her from their corner.

We are so grateful for the time we had with her. And grateful for people like you, who send sympathetic wishes and warmth.

Sadness is part of life, you know? When we feel all of us creatures have that in common, somehow it makes life richer.

I’m grateful for that. Aren’t you?

A very happy New Year to all from Strider and Woody. Our advice columnist and his intern look forward to 2025, and to hearing from you at [email protected].