O.Henr y Ending

Listening with Your Heart

What my dad — and my dog — taught me

By James Col asanti Jr. Christmas is my

favorite time of the year, largely because of my childhood memories involving dogs.

I have always slept with dogs, my unconditional loving companions. From a few days af ter my bir th, I slept with Butchy, the dog who taught me to have empathy for all. A nd now, 71 years later, with a 21-year- old Chihuahua named Minnie. It all began with my father, James Sr.

In 1949, my preg nant mother was busy prepar ing the evening meal when my father entered the room holding a small black-whiteand-tan ter r ier in his big Italian hands. Of course, she heard the shar p, high-pitched yipping before she saw him.

“L ook, Mar y, look!” he exclaimed, holding out the f r isk y, wr iggling pup he would name Butchy. “She is just too feist y to have a g irl ’s name. Butchy will make a g reat companion for our son.” (A lthough gender reveal was a thing of the f ut ure, my father k new in his hear t that my mother was having a boy.) Following my bir th, my parents put Butchy in my cradle ever y night to keep me war m and to aler t them to my needs.

W hen I g raduated f rom my cr ib, g uess who snuggled in the bed with me? Well into my teenage years, Butchy slept alongside me. A nd ever y night, one of my parents would visit my room to check on me.

I re c a l l one par t ic u lar Yu let ide even ing b eing ver y sp e cia l. I wa s 15. A s t he ha l l l ig ht c a st it s glow into my b e dro om, Butchy lo oke d up toward t he do or a s my f at her entere d. A s dad sat on t he e dge of my b e d, Butchy r a ise d her he ad f rom my chest. He pat te d her he ad a s he sp oke.

My father — who was 50 when I was bor n — was a gentle man, a philosopher and an animal whisperer in the tr uest sense. If he were to sit on a tree st ump in the middle of the woods with an ear of dr ied cor n, a deer would be eating out of his hands within minutes. He was the one who taught me my understanding of dogs and the meaning of Chr istmas. “James,” he began, “the best g if ts I can g ive you this Chr istmas are the little lessons I have lear ned over the years.” W hat followed was the wisdom of a man who barely got past the eighth g rade. I can still hear the cadence of his voice. “T he love of a dog is the mag ic that binds you together,” he told me. “A nd it only takes one dog to change your life forever.” (For me, that was Butchy.) “W hen I come into your room at night, she always has her head on your chest. It’s her way of mak ing sure you’re OK. A nd because she loves you, she also listens to you with her hear t when you talk to her.”

My dad had a lot more to say about the hear t. “Your hear t is the center of your life. It is the source f rom which all of your love flows. W henever someone is speak ing to you, you will never go wrong if you listen with your hear t.” A nd then he shared something that his father — my g randfather — once told him. “Remember, son, that you were loved by a man who loved dogs — who loved dogs more than he loved people. A nd do you k now why he told me this?”

“W hy?” I asked, yaw ning.

“Because he k new that — unlike people — the only time a dog will break your hear t is when it dies.”

A s the hall light faded, I heard my father whisper, as he had so many times before, “Son, if you follow your hear t, you can make ever y day feel like Chr istmas.” OH

Jam e s Col a sant i Jr. is a Ma xw ell Me d allion award - w inning auth or an d m ember of th e Dog Wr it ers A sso ci at ion of Am er i c a. A pa st pre si d ent of th e Anim al Re scu e & Fost er Prog ram of Gre en sboro, h e sh are s his h om e w ith four re scu e d ogs.