Much has been written about man’s best friend and their unconditional love for their human companions.  And I’ve found all to be true.

We have two dogs, one who has seen her share of years and the other has seen only one.  Beyond their endless positive attitudes, I draw great pleasure in watching them play.  Certainly, the puppy’s energy level is higher, but even the older sister has her moments of youthful exuberance.

If we are on hike and a squirrel crosses path our youngest, Ellie, will give chase over mossy ground, under fallen tree, or in leaping shrub.  No matter the barrier, she doesn’t give up.  Though she’s never able to catch the crafty creatures, she gives it her best each and every time, and when the “hunt” is over, she is back at our sides eager for the next adventure—always with a smile on her face and a wag in her tail.

The other day, I was mountain biking on my favorite singletrack through the autumn wood.  My girlfriend Renea and Ellie trailed significantly behind.  But when loosed, in seconds, Ellie had closed the gap and ran by my side looking at me as if saying, “Did you miss me?  Where should we go?”  I swear she could run forever.  I’ve seen her jump over a rock covered bank, a distance close to ten feet, land, make an immediate turn and reach full gallop in a stride or two.  Then she’ll turn back and say with a look, “Did you see me?”  It is a joy to behold.

And when our older CeCe sees these feats of canine athletics, she too will run to greet Ellie, her bushy tail wagging.  No, she doesn’t display such spectacular gymnastics, but she is saying in her own way, “See I still have it!”

Watching animals play, whether panda in a feather bed of snow, otters sliding down a smooth stone waterway, or our own Ellie and CeCe prancing in prairie grass, it makes me smile to know our Creator instilled a spirit to play in beasties and human alike.  With life’s frantic pace, it is easy to forget that urge we all felt when children, but when I see our two furry companions in action, it makes me want the same.  Though not able to run or vault like our jubilant Ellie, I can still mount bicycle, or swing, or ride waves in ocean blue to rekindle the impulse to simply have fun.

Tonight, when all were getting ready to bed down, little Ellie raised her head and looked my way as if to say, “Is the day really over?”  I must endeavor to end my days with thoughts such as these, as day leads on to day so quickly and if you aren’t mindful you can adopt an attitude of enduring the day rather than seeing those twenty-four hours for the miracle they are.