Geddy Lee Miller

I come home from work one afternoon. I pull into my driveway and this little brown dog sticks his head around the corner of the building.

That’s how it starts.

Somebody dumped their dog in the Crab Orchard Wildlife Refuge with a little pink collar, no name tag, and no identification. It runs around the neighborhood for about 3 or 4 weeks, holding off the coyote dogs and fending for itself.

I suggest to Kate that maybe we should take the little brown guy in and give him a hot meal and a bath…see if we can take care of him a little bit.

The following Sunday afternoon, Kate comes in through the back door and introduces me to the dog she has named Geddy Lee. It’s psychological manipulation on her part. She knows I’ll never throw Geddy Lee out of the house, because Geddy Lee is the lead singer of Rush – my favorite band.

Fast forward 4 years and now I take the dog with me everywhere He is, in fact, my best friend and we’ve never spoken a word between the two of us.

How does that happen?

See, I know the science behind man’s affinity towards dogs and dogs’ affinity towards human beings. I understand that we co-evolved, and help protect each other for our mutual survival possibilities. We worked together. It’s literally in human beings’ genes to love and develop a relationship with a dog. Dogs actually become psychotic at the loss of the bond with their human being. Academically, it’s a fascinating process. But I don’t care. It’s about the love.

For a while, I thought there was something wrong with me because I had such a deep relationship with my dog. I thought maybe there was something missing in my personal life and relationships that made the dog important.

My dog doesn’t care how much I make or what kind of car I drive or whether I did a good job in an interview that morning. He still loves me. And I love him.

Now if we can just do something about the flatulence.