Two weeks ago one of my best friends died. His name was Barney. He had golden hair, big brown eyes, and was nine. His mother was a Golden Retriever and his father was a Labrador. We’d known each other since he was a baby.

Barney was a real trooper. He was diagnosed with lymphoma 18 months ago. He went through six months of chemotherapy without a complaint. The poor guy lost all of his nose hair from the treatments. But the treatments put him into remission, in which he stayed until just a few days before he died.

I learned a great deal from Barney. When I was growing up in New York City, I didn’t have a dog. There were already six people living in a small apartment; there was simply no room for a pet of any kind. Dogs were for people in the suburbs.

In fact, it wasn’t until we moved to Kansas that Karen and I finally adopted a dog. Karen came home one day and told me that a colleague’s dog had had a litter and that he was looking for a home for some of the pups. That’s how Barney and I met.

I have to admit that I had my doubts at first. As a puppy Barney liked to chew on things. One day I came home to find two rather rare books I had ordered from a rare book dealer spread across our front yard. All the pages were there, several hundred of them, each lying on its own in the grass. Barney was happily chewing on the disassembled covers. But I forgave him and he learned the difference between a dog treat and a leather-bound book.

Barney taught me about the very special bond that can develop between dogs and people. Barney had a big heart. There wasn’t a mean bone in his body. He loved people. Sometimes, when he was young, he got so excited at meeting someone new, he got a little carried away. I remember one time when a very prominent alumnus was at our house for dinner, Barney bounded up to him with his usual enthusiasm. The alumnus, who loved dogs, immediately bent down to pet him. Barney got so excited he urinated all over the alumnus’ very expensive shoes!

Over the past few years I’ve been doing quite a lot of reading about the bonds that develop between humans and their pets. I’ve decided that I want to teach an animal rights class and I’ve been trying to formulate an approach based upon these readings.

One book, in particular, has fascinated me. The author is an evolutionary biologist. He believes that dogs are what he calls “artificial animals.” What he means by this is that dogs evolved from wolves in response to human beings and that the modern dog exists in its present form because of human needs. They are, in effect, evolved to be our pets and helpers. I have no doubt, having known Barney, that there is much truth to this.

Five years ago when I was diagnosed with diabetes and began to develop signs of some complications, I became very depressed. The thought of living with a chronic illness and the limitations it imposed was just too much for me to handle. I began to suffer from insomnia.

One night, about 3 a.m., I’d just about reached the end of my rope and was ready to just give up. I was downstairs at the time and feeling miserable. Then, somehow sensing how I felt, Barney came over, put his head in my lap, looked up at me and just stared silently. He really did seem to be saying that things would work out and I’d manage. I fell asleep on the couch with Barney at my side. After that, my insomnia was gone and I was on the way out of my depression.

I will miss Barney. He was a great friend. The time we spent together was nothing short of a blessing. But I comfort myself with the thought that somewhere there’s a Heaven and I know Barney’s in it, running through green pastures in perpetual warm sunshine, where dog treats grow on bushes, and there’s always someone to play catch. I hope someday that I can be there and see my friend again.