My 12-year-old miniature schnauzer Czerny died earlier this month. As friends here know, he wasn’t just my puppy — he was my support dog and my best friend. Philip and I had two dogs before Czerny, and both brought something wonderful to our lives, but Czerny was special. He had a joie de vivre and a sense of wonder that were infectious. Every meal was the best meal. Every walk was the best walk. Every trip was the best trip. We adopted Czerny in early 2009, shortly after I was diagnosed with degenerative autoimmune disease. He was with me when my health started to decline in 2011, and when it dramatically worsened in 2016 and 2017. Eventually, as my world got smaller, as my life was forced into a very predictable routine, I began to see the world through Czerny’s eyes, and it brought me new purpose and vitality. I came to realize that sameness doesn’t have to be sad or dull — that you can still greet a familiar day with an eager heart.
