A little while ago, Sharon pointed out to me that dog owners and dog lovers are not the same thing. After a brief reflection, I had to concur. Here's how I see it.
Sadly, for many, owning a dog is a perfunctory experience. They acquire a dog because they seek companionship or protection, or because their parents had dogs, or because they have some notion that dog ownership completes a family.
Or maybe they just want a being that will adore them slavishly. These people are dog owners. Their 'pet' is an adjunct to their otherwise busy lives. The dog comes second. It may well spend the majority of its time outside, in a yard or garage, or chained to a deck. It's an amusing distraction, a sop for the kids, a status symbol, or heaven forbid, a fashion accessory. At best, its a notion that gives comfort and solace. A nice idea. A notion of what comforting ownership could be. Of course, reality seldom matches the mythology of the dog. The needy, demanding, in your face being they end up with can be as much of a pain as it is a pleasure. It doesn't function on command or to a timetable, and it despite it's dependence, it displays an alarming array of self possessed and inconvenient thinking and behaviour. It always wants something, usually its owner's precious time and attention, or something they're even less prepared to give, like unquestioning love. The dog is to be brought out and toyed with when its convenient, and pushed aside when it's not. It's as likely to share holidays with a steel cage as it is with those whom it misguidedly regards as its family, and it will always take second place to humankind. Exclusion is as familiar as inclusion. Of course the 'better' owner, feeling a sense of obligation, may honour their commitment to the creature, providing food, shelter and walks (when it suits); they'll even do a version of affection, and when the mood takes them, love their companion. But they'll seldom think twice about (literally) terminating the agreement as soon as the creature shows any sign of aging, or simply becomes a bore. The dog owner will likely feel the odd twinge of regret about their pet's passing, then they'll move on to another, serially searching for the illusive 'something' that their last pet simply wasn't the one to provide.
For a dog lover owning a dog is an altogether different 'kettle of fish'. For them, inviting another creature into their lives brings about something magical and extraordinary. It opens up new possibilities and allows them to explore a different aspect of themselves. What begins as a tentative exploration of the possible blossoms into an exciting joy ride of discovery as their experience of the human/dog relationship enlightens and enlivens them. The love they feel exceeds all expectations as it nurtures their soul and touches a part deep within them that they never knew existed. Their pet truly becomes a part of their family. A relative. They will feel for their dumb beast something akin to a mystical connection. They are as close to them as they would be to their own children, perhaps more so. The dog is more than a simple companion; it completes them in ways they cannot describe. Its impact in their life assumes for them a significance not entirely unlike a romance. The dog is not a being without fault, yet they accept it in totality, warts and all. Its flaws, dirty habits and occasionally disgusting behaviours are as nothing compared to what they feel they receive in return. They sense the love their pet bears for them palpably and are happy to reciprocate. Their mutual devotion binds them together, and although they may quarrel and squabble like an old married couple, there is no sin between them that may not be forgiven, no wrong that may not be righted. Separation results in tangible pain. Exclusion from any event is unthinkable. The parting of passing brings an agony without compare, and the grief stricken other, master, mistress or dog may never recover from the loss of the one they have been so cruelly bereft of. They await the afterlife with eager anticipation that it may bring about reunion, and their sadness, although well hidden, is never truly eliminated.
Does this seem extreme to you? Maybe it is. But that doesn't mean that as an expression of polarities, it's inaccurate.
The world is full of dog owners. Dogs need them. Without the opportunity they provide, dogs could not progress upon their ascension pathway. Without them, there simply wouldn't be enough homes for the billions of dogs upon the planet to have a chance at living in, or humans to develop synergies with and learn lessons alongside. There are many, many fewer dog lovers. In fact, the ratio is about on a par with that of old souls in their final 3rd dimensional reincarnations, to the rest of the population of the planet, irrespective of soul age. All dogs must go through lifetime after lifetime living with dog owners, yet they long to be with dog lovers. I know this because an Archangel told me so.
Does this make you feel uncomfortable? Maybe its because you lean more towards being a dog owner than a dog lover, and the recognition of that is not easy; or maybe it gives you a hint of what you might really be missing out on. You decide.
Sadly, for many, owning a dog is a perfunctory experience. They acquire a dog because they seek companionship or protection, or because their parents had dogs, or because they have some notion that dog ownership completes a family.
Or maybe they just want a being that will adore them slavishly. These people are dog owners. Their 'pet' is an adjunct to their otherwise busy lives. The dog comes second. It may well spend the majority of its time outside, in a yard or garage, or chained to a deck. It's an amusing distraction, a sop for the kids, a status symbol, or heaven forbid, a fashion accessory. At best, its a notion that gives comfort and solace. A nice idea. A notion of what comforting ownership could be. Of course, reality seldom matches the mythology of the dog. The needy, demanding, in your face being they end up with can be as much of a pain as it is a pleasure. It doesn't function on command or to a timetable, and it despite it's dependence, it displays an alarming array of self possessed and inconvenient thinking and behaviour. It always wants something, usually its owner's precious time and attention, or something they're even less prepared to give, like unquestioning love. The dog is to be brought out and toyed with when its convenient, and pushed aside when it's not. It's as likely to share holidays with a steel cage as it is with those whom it misguidedly regards as its family, and it will always take second place to humankind. Exclusion is as familiar as inclusion. Of course the 'better' owner, feeling a sense of obligation, may honour their commitment to the creature, providing food, shelter and walks (when it suits); they'll even do a version of affection, and when the mood takes them, love their companion. But they'll seldom think twice about (literally) terminating the agreement as soon as the creature shows any sign of aging, or simply becomes a bore. The dog owner will likely feel the odd twinge of regret about their pet's passing, then they'll move on to another, serially searching for the illusive 'something' that their last pet simply wasn't the one to provide.
For a dog lover owning a dog is an altogether different 'kettle of fish'. For them, inviting another creature into their lives brings about something magical and extraordinary. It opens up new possibilities and allows them to explore a different aspect of themselves. What begins as a tentative exploration of the possible blossoms into an exciting joy ride of discovery as their experience of the human/dog relationship enlightens and enlivens them. The love they feel exceeds all expectations as it nurtures their soul and touches a part deep within them that they never knew existed. Their pet truly becomes a part of their family. A relative. They will feel for their dumb beast something akin to a mystical connection. They are as close to them as they would be to their own children, perhaps more so. The dog is more than a simple companion; it completes them in ways they cannot describe. Its impact in their life assumes for them a significance not entirely unlike a romance. The dog is not a being without fault, yet they accept it in totality, warts and all. Its flaws, dirty habits and occasionally disgusting behaviours are as nothing compared to what they feel they receive in return. They sense the love their pet bears for them palpably and are happy to reciprocate. Their mutual devotion binds them together, and although they may quarrel and squabble like an old married couple, there is no sin between them that may not be forgiven, no wrong that may not be righted. Separation results in tangible pain. Exclusion from any event is unthinkable. The parting of passing brings an agony without compare, and the grief stricken other, master, mistress or dog may never recover from the loss of the one they have been so cruelly bereft of. They await the afterlife with eager anticipation that it may bring about reunion, and their sadness, although well hidden, is never truly eliminated.
Does this seem extreme to you? Maybe it is. But that doesn't mean that as an expression of polarities, it's inaccurate.
The world is full of dog owners. Dogs need them. Without the opportunity they provide, dogs could not progress upon their ascension pathway. Without them, there simply wouldn't be enough homes for the billions of dogs upon the planet to have a chance at living in, or humans to develop synergies with and learn lessons alongside. There are many, many fewer dog lovers. In fact, the ratio is about on a par with that of old souls in their final 3rd dimensional reincarnations, to the rest of the population of the planet, irrespective of soul age. All dogs must go through lifetime after lifetime living with dog owners, yet they long to be with dog lovers. I know this because an Archangel told me so.
Does this make you feel uncomfortable? Maybe its because you lean more towards being a dog owner than a dog lover, and the recognition of that is not easy; or maybe it gives you a hint of what you might really be missing out on. You decide.