An unlikely mentor Published July 10, 2008 By Col. Pete Peters Deputy Commander, 375th Medical Group SCOTT AIR FORCE BASE, Ill. -- "Our pre-mature baby has a heart condition," the Airman told me, "and we're moving back to the states for surgery next week, so we would be thankful to have a loving home for our dog." With my promise to our sixth grade daughter, Shannon, to get a dog once we settled into our new home at Bitburg Air Base, Germany in mind, "Yes, I replied, he seems perfect." And thus began a decade of adventure with "Rooski," a pure black, goatee-trimmed Portuguese Water Dog and Poodle mix. Now, as I look back over 10 years of day-to-day life and family adventures with Rooski, it's clear I learned much more about life's priorities from our dog - lessons on companionship, unconditional love, enjoying simple pleasures and even how to age gracefully, than Rooski gained from his human owners. And science tells me that I'm healthier for having shared Rooski's life. Research shows pet owners generally have lower blood pressure and cholesterol and a reduced risk of cardiovascular disease than non-pet owners. Sometimes, a pet is the strongest social predictor of surviving heart disease, even compared to having family and friends and contributes to a longer life expectancy after a heart attack. Having a dog increases the exercise level for owners (even among those who don't walk their dog) and just sitting and petting a dog helps reduce stress. Dogs are pack animals, which means, like most people, they thrive as part of a group. They're very interested in their human companions and help us overcome both physical and emotional tough times. When we returned to the states from Germany at the beginning of Shannon's high school senior year, Rooski was there as a silent, faithful friend always ready to sit close and gently nuzzle. He licked away the tears of loneliness and was always available to enjoy the simple joy of a long walk together or to just lay on the bed thinking. The old adage, "a dog is man's best friend," never rang more true. No person ever gave a more enthusiastic greeting every time we walked in the door than Rooski, and it didn't matter if we had been out for a quick errand or on vacation - he was there to give welcome home jumps and licks in the face. He would run circles around the house or in the yard exclaiming, "They're home! They're home!" or grab an old sock (or an extended hand) for a tug of war. Rooski taught me to run to greet loved ones coming home and to give people a friendly welcome. Rooski was a curious dog who understood it's the little things that count most in life and give the most pleasure. A family member coming through the door, a dog dish being filled or someone to scratch your belly. When we asked Rooski if he wanted to go for a walk or car ride, talk about excitement! He was the first one in the car, and even though he never knew where he was going, it didn't matter; he enjoyed the ride with the wind in his fur, ears flopping. His life was about the journey, not the destination. Rooski loved to chase the cat that lived in the neighborhood and he learned the words that meant the chase was on. He looked forward to sniffing out squirrels and rabbits on his walks and never tired of tracking them down. Did he ever catch one or give up trying? Never, because he knew the thrill was in the chase, not the outcome. Rooski took care of himself physically; he never ate more from his dish than he needed, enjoyed his nightly cheese treat and never missed a chance to take a nap. He had napping stations all around the house, usually wherever a sunbeam was shining in and a family member was close by. I learned the importance of getting enough beauty rest (even if I couldn't) and to leave room in the schedule for a good nap. I also learned about leadership from Rooski, like avoid biting when a simple growl will do and to take responsibility for your actions (after being dragged out from under the bed). Rooski also taught me the value of unconditional love and forgiveness. A dog forgives immediately and remembers nothing; you can't help but be impressed. Rooski was 98 in human years when he died. During the last few months of his life he grew steadily weaker and struggled just to move and communicate, but he was still loving and uncomplaining. He was always ready for an occasional, but brief, wrestling match and he never lost his sense of adventure or belief that you're never too old to play. As I remember Rooski, I'm reminded of the Biblical verse Job 12:7, "Ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds of the air, and they will tell you." Thanks Rooski.