How blessed I am to call Michael Cogdill a friend.
Just a simple phone conversation with him inspires, uplifts and encourages. Besides being one of the smartest friends I have, he is also one of the wisest and kindest. What a great combination when you need a trusted friend!
Many of you probably know Michael (pictured at left) from his work as a journalist, news anchor, and writer. He is the recipient of 29 Emmys and other prestigious awards with his many interviews and news stories with the most famous newsmakers in the world. I am certain that his Southern novel She-Rain is also going to be an award-winning movie (I would love to executive produce his masterpiece).
Michael is certainly a decorated journalist and storyteller, but I know him best as a wonderful friend. He kindly allowed me to share one of my favorite posts from his thought-provoking and entertaining blog.
Read on below and enjoy!
Why Our Dogs Are Better Than We Are
by Michael Cogdill
You can make a good dog a billionaire. She’d rather live poor and in true love with everybody.
Fancy shoes hold no allure for a dog. Unless they remind him of that rawhide you buy for a dollar somewhere.
A dog can’t see the color of your Lamborghini. She couldn’t care less for the nameplate. The bed of a ’69 GMC pickup truck rides just fine.
Such a dog will never lead with his politics. But he abides a policy: sniff the hand of everyone. Snap only at the ones you catch doing real harm.
A dog is not a bigot, unless trained to be.
She knows the meaning of no. She leaps out joy when the answer is yes. If she is a drama queen, it is to make sure you laugh and not cry. She is a kindly monarch. Learns the meaning of the word — enough.
All dogs are poor, and they love the poor. They seem to know we are all poor of time and peace and real union with God. They love when we laugh. Grieve when we cry. They just seem to know God’s in there somewhere. Better than we know ourselves.
A good dog will wait for you. Erupt in a party when you arrive. You are never late to the dog.
And when it’s time for a dog to die, the dog seems to know. They long to romp this life, and they know how, but they fear not leaving it. In this, they are wiser than we are. They gently try to tell us life is short. Watch a good dog’s last breath, and you will dread less your own.
A dear friend, a clergyman, once told me he did not want to go to any heaven where his dog was not. I agree most heartily. He’s there now. I believe he’d have taken a most profane umbrage if the gate said, No Pets.
God is not cruel. God gave us dog. Simply spelled the name backwards, and wandered upon the porch of the human heart. Simply asking to be let in.
To read more posts from my friend Michael, please click here to visit his blog,