I took a walk by myself this morning. It was the first Saturday in quite a few Saturdays whereby I made pancakes for one. Yesterday, Good Friday, was a good day to say goodbye.

The writer’s dog, Dublin.

Among the reminders scattered about our home is a small sign that reads: “Dogs laugh with their tails.” More than laugh, dogs seem to “accept” with their tails as well. On countless other walks, Dublin would consistently approach total strangers with the same enthusiasm as she would familiar friends. Everyone was invited — indeed encouraged — to administer a belly rub. Few declined the opportunity.

It’s also been said that dogs live “in the moment.” They harbor no grudges. They seem to eschew chewing on anything other than a rawhide bone. Perhaps the colloquialism “fuggedaboudit!” may have been canine-coined. They seem to forgive and forget — readily, willingly and effortlessly.

Nowadays, I’m enjoying my newfound role as a substitute teacher(!) Seemingly, I’m achieving some modicum of success. I’ve heard “The kids love you!” from teachers, and “You’re the best sub we have!” from students.  It occurs to me that I do endeavor to hike the halls of Hall-Dale and Gardiner schools, wagging my tail. I should be paid by the occurrences of high-fives and fist-bumps. But getting them is compensation enough.

I recall a recent high school class discussion focusing on “acceptance” and “exclusion.” Why do we have the capacity for the former and way too often bear the burden of the latter?  It was certainly the most illuminating class I’ve ever had the pleasure of conducting. The students — every single one of them — opened up like rays of sunshine on a cloudy day. Sadly, the class ended before I could administer belly rubs.

Yesterday the sun was surely shining. Today, as I sit here writing, somehow — my tail’s wagging!

Buddy Doyle

Gardiner