Three Dog Night

Returning home from a Friday night out, David spotted a three-legged dog standing on the corner of 67th Street & 10th Avenue. He was a big dog, a happy dog, and he looked up at his owner, I could swear, with a smile on his face.

What is it about a three-legged dog that makes me soften, makes me feel tender, and gives me a sense of comfort?

I did a quick Internet search of the three-legged dog and was surprised at what I found. There were three-legged dog stories, three-legged dog poems, and three-legged dog jokes. There were websites dedicated to three-legged dogs, and three-legged dog clubs. A tavern in New Orleans was called The Three-Legged Dog, and an article in The Hollywood Reporter announced that Sandra Bullock had adopted … a three-legged dog.

People project everything onto their dogs. Their emotions, their qualities, even their physical appearances. So perhaps what I see, and what others see in a three-legged dog, is that even when we are not whole, even when we are broken, we can still be okay, more than okay.

One night, shortly after my father died, I was lying in bed with my mother. We stared at the ceiling together and cried. I said to her, “I feel as if our family is now standing on three legs instead of four.” And she replied, “But it’s a strong three legs.”