Fido Was an Awesome Dog — A Lesson in Love, Loss, and What Really Matters

 

The Dog Who Taught Me Faithfulness: Love, Loss, and the Gift of Today

The Day Fido Came Home

One day my grandfather came home and asked me to get a carton of cigarettes out of the back seat of the car. He had a grin on his face so I knew he was up to something. I hurried out in my eight-year-old body wondering what the real story was.

And inside a box was a little black mutt with a white spot on his chest.

I named him Fido. I have no idea what kind of dog he was. Mutt about sums it up, but he was a mutt full of love and energy!

That was the start of one of the most meaningful friendships I ever had as a kid. It didn't come wrapped in fancy paper. It didn't come with a pedigree or a training certificate. It came in a cardboard box from the back seat of a beat-up car — and it changed my childhood forever.

You see, God has a way of sending us gifts in the most unexpected packaging. I didn't know it at the time, but that little dog would teach me more about love, loyalty, and the cost of real relationships than any sermon I'd hear for years to come.

Proverbs 12:10 (KJV) — "A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel."

That verse came alive in my heart years later when I looked back on Fido. There was something righteous about the way that dog loved. He didn't know how to hold a grudge. He didn't know how to calculate the cost of affection. He just gave.

A Friendship That Cost Everything

Fido was awesome. Every day after school he would run across the street from playing with the neighbor's dogs to come play with me. I never got my books in the door. I had to set them down and play for an hour or so before I finally went in to do some homework.

This routine went on for much of Fido's short life.

I think about that now and I realize — that dog never missed a day. He never said he was too tired. He never had a bad mood that kept him from wagging his tail. Every single day, without fail, he chose me.

That's a picture of something deeper, isn't it? It's a picture of faithfulness. The kind of faithfulness that doesn't keep score. The kind that doesn't ask "what's in it for me?" The kind that just shows up.

Lamentations 3:22-23 (KJV) — "It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."

Fido's faithfulness was new every afternoon when I walked through that gate. And I took it for granted. I was a kid. I didn't know any better. I thought he'd always be there.

A Bond Forged in the Simple Things

We didn't do anything extraordinary. We chased each other around the yard. I threw sticks. He brought them back — sometimes. He'd roll over for belly rubs and then spring up like a coiled snake, ready for round two. We'd sit together on the back steps until dark.

I remember the way he'd look at me when I was eating a sandwich on the porch. That head tilt. Those big brown eyes. The quiet, patient whine that said, "I know you're going to share with me, because that's what we do."

And I always did.

There's something sacred about those simple moments. We spend so much of our lives chasing big things — success, money, recognition — that we miss the gold that's buried in the ordinary. Fido taught me that joy doesn't require a big stage. It requires presence. It requires showing up. It requires being with the ones you love.

Ecclesiastes 9:10 (KJV) — "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest."

Fido did everything with his might. He played with his might. He wagged with his might. He loved with his might. He didn't hold back a single ounce of who he was.

The Day Everything Changed

One day I made it home and actually made it in the back door. I was shocked that I actually made it inside the house and was able to put my books on the table without being greeted by a very happy to see me little mutt.

Fido never made it across the street that day. He met his fate coming to play with me.

I still remember the hollow feeling in my chest when I realized what had happened. The silence where there should have been barking. The empty space on the back steps where he always sat.

Love comes with a price.

I can still feel the weight of that lesson. It hit me harder than anything had up to that point in my young life. I cried in a way I had never cried before — not because I was in trouble, not because I got hurt, but because I had lost someone I truly loved.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-2 (KJV) — "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted."

That was the season of plucking up for me. But even in the pain, something was being planted.

Why It Was Still Worth It

If I ever had to do it all over again, I would still spend the time I did with Fido. Some things, even if they have a tragic ending, are well worth it.

That is a truth I have carried with me into every relationship since. The fear of loss tries to talk us out of love. The enemy wants us to believe that it's safer to keep people at arm's length, to never get too attached, to protect our hearts by building walls.

But that's a lie.

1 John 4:18 (KJV) — "There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love."

Fido didn't fear. He didn't hold back because he knew one day it would end. He just loved. Fully. Completely. Without reservation. And that's exactly how we are called to love — not because the ending is guaranteed to be happy, but because love itself is the reward.

I would go through that loss a hundred times over to have those afternoons again. To hear that bark. To feel that wet nose on my hand. To see him running toward me with everything he had.

Some things are well worth the price.

Treasure What You Have Now

Treasure the relationships that you have because you don't know how long you've got.

This is not a message about a dog. It's a message about every person God has placed in your life. Your spouse. Your children. Your parents. Your friends. The brother or sister in Christ who prays with you. The neighbor who waves every morning.

You don't know how many afternoons you have left together.

James 4:14 (KJV) — "Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away."

We are vapors. Our time here is short. And the greatest tragedy is not loving someone and losing them — it's having them right in front of you and not really seeing them.

What Fido Taught Me About God's Love

I know it sounds simple, but that little mutt showed me a glimpse of something eternal. He showed me unconditional love before I even understood the concept. He showed me that someone could be happy just to be with me — not because I did something impressive, not because I earned it, but just because.

That's a shadow of the love of God.

Romans 5:8 (KJV) — "But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."

God doesn't wait for us to clean up our act. He doesn't wait for us to get our books in the door. He runs to meet us. He greets us with joy. He has been waiting all day just to spend time with us.

Fido didn't care about my grades. He didn't care if I had messed up that day. He didn't care if I was popular or not. He just wanted to be with me.

And that is how the Father feels about you.

A Call to Be Present

One of the things I regret most is how many of those afternoons I took for granted. I was a kid, so I didn't know any better. But looking back, I wish I had been more present. I wish I had sat on the steps longer. I wish I had thrown the ball one more time. I wish I had noticed more.

Don't make that mistake.

Put the phone down. Close the laptop. Look at the people in your life and really see them. The time you have with them is borrowed. It's a gift. Don't spend it distracted.

Psalm 90:12 (KJV) — "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."

Numbering our days doesn't mean being morbid. It means being awake. It means knowing that today matters. The moments you have right now — the ones that seem ordinary, routine, even boring — those are the moments you'll look back on and treasure.

The Cost of Love Is Also Its Beauty

We try to avoid pain. It's built into us. We pull our hands back from the fire. We avoid situations that might hurt us. But love is the one fire you cannot afford to avoid.

Yes, love comes with a price. It cost me a friend. It cost me afternoons that would never come again. It cost me tears I didn't know I had.

But it also gave me memories that no one can take away. It gave me a picture of loyalty that I still measure other relationships against. It gave me a heart that knew how to grieve — and that meant I had a heart that knew how to love.

John 15:13 (KJV) — "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."

Fido didn't understand theology. He never read that verse. But he lived it. He laid down his life coming to be with me.

That's the kind of love we're called to. Not the safe kind. Not the calculated kind. The kind that crosses the street even when it's dangerous, because being with the one you love is worth the risk.

Your Next Steps

You've read this story. You've felt the weight of it. Now it's time to do something about it. Don't let this just be another article you scroll past and forget. Let it change something.

1. Call or text someone you love today, right now. Don't wait for a special occasion. Don't wait until you have the perfect words. Just reach out and tell them you're grateful for them. That's it. That's all it takes. One message. One phone call. One moment of intentional love.
2. Spend 15 minutes with someone this week — fully present. No phone. No TV. No distractions. Sit with your spouse, your child, your parent, or a friend. Look them in the eye. Listen to them. Be there. Not because you have to, but because you won't have forever.
3. Thank God for the people He has placed in your life. Take five minutes in prayer and name them one by one. Thank Him for each relationship. Ask Him to help you treasure them while you have them. Gratitude is the soil in which love grows.

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Fido Rocked. And he still teaches me, all these years later.

Treasure what you have now. Love without holding back. And let the people in your life know, while they can still hear it, that they matter.