Lessons from Denver and The Art of Racing in the Rain

Photo Credits: theartofracingintherain.wordpress.com

Excerpt from the book:

“In Mongolia, when a dog dies, he is buried high in the hills so people cannot walk on his grave. The dog's master whispers into the dog's ear his wishes that the dog will return as a man in his next life. Then his tail is cut off and put beneath his head, and a piece of meat or fat is placed in his mouth to sustain his soul on its journey; before he is reincarnated, the dog's soul is freed to travel the land, to run across the high desert plains for as long as it would like.

I learned that from a program on the National Geographic channel, so I believe it is true. Not all dogs return as men, they say; only those who are ready.

I am ready.”

So I have just finished reading Garth Stein's The Art of Dancing in the Rain. It is the story of Enzo, a dog with a nearly human heart and spirit. The story starts at the last days of Enzo, and he recounts the story of the Swift family through his eyes: from Danny Swift's sacrifices just to pursue his racing career, the unexpected loss of Eve, Danny's wife, and Danny's three- year conflict with Eve's family over the custody of his daughter, Zoe. It's a pretty heart-wrenching story, but at least it ends on a very hopeful note. It's a great read. I won't go into details because it's a novel that needs to be experienced from the first page up until the last. And even if you're not a dog lover, I will recommend it anyway because it's not simply about the dog.

Oftentimes, I would read the book right at the living room so I could be with my beloved Golden Retriever, Denver. The book just made me appreciate the mutt more: Whenever I'd scream at him out of frustration, (he's very mischievous, and he LOVES eating my shoes) he will still come up to me, with a wagging tail and his joyful beady eyes, and he'll stand up and lean on my thighs. Maybe for him, it doesn't matter even if I tick off and almost hit him. I am his best friend, and he will forever be grateful to me for saving him from his hellish cage one hot day in February 2011. No matter what I do and what happens, he will always be there to support and love me. Sometimes, when the trust and respect of people, even from the ones I love, falter, I just go up to Denver because I feel that he genuinely believes in me and respects me. And when I feel troubled, Denver's paw is always there, ready to give me a pat on the thigh. If he could only speak, perhaps he'll say the most useful advice I'll ever hear in my entire existence. (I'm sure he's dying to do so)

If there's one valuable lesson I've learned from the novel and my dear mutt, it's that we should never forget the genuine meaning of Love: It is staying with somebody when the world tells you to let go. Many relationships end because most people just understood--they did not love. Sounds very easy, yet so hard to do. But if dogs can do it, so can I. So can you. So can we.

I'm now moving on to The Life of Pi by Yann Martel. I am also excited about the movie. Oh, and pray that I don't get myself a Tiger.