If Only the World Could Be More Ruby

A love letter to a dog who taught what it means to be human

Scrolling though my phone this morning, I stumbled upon a photo of you, dearest Ruby. It was taken exactly one year ago today. Though perhaps “stumbled” is not quite the right word, because I’ve come to believe that nothing truly happens by accident. And maybe it was your way of checking in. Of letting me know you’re still near. A quiet reminder that, even now, especially now, you are watching over me.

That you are sending me hope. That I should never, ever, not ever, give up on kindness.

Heaven knows you never did.

Though you had every reason to turn your back on the world — on people. You’d seen the worst of humanity, but you didn’t close yourself off. Yes, you were frightened and fragile the day we met, your body was thin with neglect and despair, and yet, somehow you found it within yourself to lean in and love out. You greeted each new soul not with suspicion, but with the same gentle softness they felt when they touched your muzzle. The one you pressed into their heart. You did so with an unshakeable belief that love could still win. And for as long as you lived, it did.

Even now, the thought of that still blows me away.

I am just going to pause here and look at your sweet face a little longer. Oh, dearest girl. I see nothing but love in its purest form. What an incredible being you are.

Tears are streaming now. I love you so very much. I always will. In your eyes, I saw loyalty wrapped in fur, blanketed by the wisdom that was etched in your softness.

If only the world could be more Ruby, what a world it would be.

Though your body has left this plane, your presence has not. It never will. When I close my eyes, there you are. There, you gloriously are, whole, luminous and alive. And yes, part of me left with you, but part of you has stayed behind, forever stitched into my soul.

You taught me more than all of my books ever could, and we all know I have a lot of books!

You taught me that evolution doesn’t favour the strong, it favours the kind. The ones who care when it hurts. The ones who show up when it’s hard, whose hearts break open and yet, still choose love.

That was you, precious Ruby.

That was you.

You showed me that midnight romps in the garden can be magical and that moonlight reveals joys that daylights hides. That living with intention and meeting each moment with curiosity, never holding a grudge and always leaving room for the unexpected, is the best way to live.

And I have to ask you this, dearest Ruby. Did you have a paw in sending little Reggie P. Piglet my way? Because we both know that life is better with pigs, don’t we? They were after all, your greatest joy. Perhaps you knew they were mine, too.

We shared a world where words were unnecessary, but love? Love never was.

And while I still don’t know whether I was your human or you were my dog, I do know this: I was better for it.

You made me a better version of myself. And what a gift that is.

So when I find myself overwhelmed and the weight of the world presses hard, when I begin to wonder why, I remember you. Your steady eyes, your gentle paw, your open heart and your quiet courage.

You reminded me then and you remind me today, of what matters. Of who I am.

And who I still hope to be — more Ruby.