Perhaps this seems a bit melodramatic and/or sounds like the unfortunate posts that are often on your newsfeed, and it probably is, but I think if you read further you may catch a glimpse of understanding…
The dog of my youth died peacefully today at the age of 13. I remember my plea as a 13-year-old: “Dad, a boy needs a dog.” From the very beginning, Didier chose me. The runt of the litter ran right through the chaos of puppies and sat at my feet. I said: “This is Didier.”
Didier is a strange name for a 13-year-old boy in Charleston to name his dog—that’s another story. The name itself is derived from an ancient name, ‘Desiderius’ and means ‘most desired.’ As I reflect on the last 13 years, some of the most formative of my life, I’m trying to process all that Didier meant to me. Maybe there’s wisdom in not sharing this on Facebook, especially so immediately, and while I am not seeking anything out of this ‘post’ I can’t help but think maybe some of my reflections are worth sharing.
This isn’t polished or carefully crafted—this is raw. So raw, it’s possible I’ll delete it later, I don’t know.
Didier was my dog. I was his boy. I’m beginning to realize how gracious God was to me through the responsibility of raising him. In reality, he raised me (that’s not a shot at my parents). He was my constant companion through some of my darkest days as a teenager and young adult. He loved unconditionally regardless of what I said, did, or didn’t do with or for him. He had a mind of his own, but a will to obey; an inclination for mischief, but a desire to please. He had the biggest capacity to love.
For me, he was an example of the way in which Jesus constantly, consistently, unconditionally loves and pursues me, as he always has, from the very beginning. I’m not calling my dog Jesus (or going down the rabbit hole of theological discussion of animals). But God used him to love me and show himself to me when I literally felt like the most alone person on the planet. I mourn the loss of Didier, but I know he had the best life. He never came to live with me because I never had the heart to take him away from his favorite place in the world, the beach.
Didier was known by people from every continent, but one. And because of his personality, ability to be photographed (#Weimaraner), and—if I’m honest—weird name was remembered and asked about by people all around the world!
The door of my boyhood has now been firmly shut. I don’t long for that, but until today I could still return to my parents’ house, take Didier to the beach, and be that kid again. No more.
He kept me (mostly) out of trouble. This all feels ridiculous to me at times, because I’m talking about a dog! But, as most dog lovers will say, ‘he was different—he was more than a dog!’ Didier really was, I promise.
I’m comforted knowing he is no longer in pain, but also by the fact that while he no longer actively serves as an example of the way in which Christ loves and pursues me, Christ is still lovingly pursuing me…and you!
I could probably write more and more, and probably will privately, but I’ll end this now. While I called him ‘Didier’ for 13 years, I think it was me that was truly the ‘most desired’ by him.