Last weekend we lost my dog who was more than just a pet; he was a member of the family. Some people disregard the pain of losing a beloved animal. “It’s just an animal. It was bound to happen eventually. You can always get another one. Blah blahblah blah blah.” Thankfully, I wasn’t surrounded by people who said such things. Most of the peopl e I talked to about it are either animal lovers themselves or they knew how very much I loved Reeses.
But that’s not the only thing I realized in the aftermath of that horrible visit to the vet. I realized that animals are huge inspirations in pretty much every area of life. My dog hated my computer. He would try to walk on the keyboard when he saw me typing, just like he would try to sit on my books or swat them out of my hand if I dared to pay attention to something other than him when he wanted petting.
Despite that adorable distraction, he was a wonderful writing companion anyway. He was my sounding board all through junior high and high school whenever I had a writing assignment. I could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge the stupid ideas that came first, though sometimes I swear he gave me a “Really? That’s your best idea?” look.
He also inspired happiness and creativity in my writing. His energy and random antics gave me a much-needed happiness during my teenage-slightly-depressed stage, which was good since I was writing for a newsletter for a large homeschool co-op and couldn’t write about blood and guts and vampires. There were two huge ways he tried to cheer me up: He would bring me his rope and do a puppy bow to get my attention when he wanted to play. If he realized that I was unhappy, he would simply curl up next to me and lay his head on my leg.
My best friend and I called Reeses a “hobbit-elf” dog. He was small and had furry feet (like a Hobbit) and skinny and had pointy ears (like an elf). He inspired at least one little creature in a fantasy story we were attempting to write. Unfortunately, I don’t remember what they were called anymore, but I know they were there.
Reeses was way more than just a writing companion throughout his 14 years. He was a friend, a comforter, cuddler, a listener, a child, a distraction, a companion, a foot-warmer, a food-stealer, a trickster, a pet, and a member of the family. He was my baby and my dog.
How does your pet affect your writing? Tell us in the comments.
Words, Stuff, and Nonsense 