A friend and his wife retired from full-time day jobs, and his wife now breeds dogs. My friend helps…primarily by playing with and falling in love with all the puppies. He seemed surprised at an observation I made of him today. “Do you realize that every time you talk about the puppies your entire face lights up?”

And it does. He breaks into a smile so broad and genuine that you just know he feels pure joy from those pups. And you can’t help but smile along with him as he tells you of the latest puppy adventure.

A dog can melt the heart of a mere mortal.

When my children were three and six, I came home from work one spring day to find them playing outside on the swing set. They called out, “Hi Mommy!” Our childcare helper waved to me, and the dog, a Jack Russell Terrier, stood up and wagged hello to me.

I remember asking myself, “Do we have a dog and I’ve forgotten?” Because we didn’t have a dog at the time.

Kelsie, as it turned out, seemed to enjoy living at our house rather than at her own. Her owners would eventually show up to retrieve her. Then a few days later, she’d show up again.

Just a few days ago, my daughter and I came across a school writing assignment notebook that she had kept in first grade. Here’s what she wrote on April 2, 1990: The same dog came. Her owners came to get her. Oh and her name is Kelsie. I loved her.

A few years later we did get our own “pound puppy” from the animal shelter. My daughter gave her the ferocious name of Cupcake.

Cupcake quickly adapted to living in the country. She was never leashed for walks since she got plenty of exercise running in the fields and swimming in the pond. When my husband bush-hogged the fields, Cupcake ran behind the tractor, pouncing on the field mice that had been stripped of their hiding places.

Dogs grow old too soon; far sooner that we’re ready for them to go gray in the muzzle, to plod up the stairs instead of bounding up them, to hesitate when it’s time to jump up on the back seat for a car ride. It’s almost as though they’re deliberating about whether or not they can make it.

A loved dog becomes part of the family. A loved dog has her own funny stories and happy memories that become intertwined with the human family members’ funny stories and happy memories.

I believe loving a dog is its own special blessing; we’re better people for having had a dog love us back.

To my readers: Do you have a favorite dog story to share?