Definitely, when I have a place and I'm going to be there for

"Definitely, when I have a place and I'm going to be there for any significant amount of time, I want to have dogs. I like a pet you can have some fun with and who does everything you do." Thus spoke Nick Lachey, singer and performer, yet also a man voicing one of the oldest truths of the human heart—that in companionship, especially that of a loyal dog, lies a joy deeper than gold and a bond more steadfast than fame. His words are not only about pets but about the longing for rootedness, for a place where the soul can dwell in peace and share its days with a faithful companion.

The ancients too knew this bond. The Greeks told of Argos, the dog of Odysseus, who waited twenty years for his master’s return, growing old and weak, yet never ceasing in loyalty. When Odysseus at last returned to Ithaca, disguised and unrecognized by men, it was Argos who knew him instantly, wagging his tail in joy before dying with peace, having seen his master once more. This story teaches what Lachey’s words echo: that the presence of a dog transforms a house into a home, and the shared path of man and animal becomes a tale of love and trust.

Lachey’s emphasis on having a dog "when I have a place" carries wisdom, for it acknowledges responsibility. A pet is not a passing amusement but a partner in life, one who requires stability, care, and love. Only when the traveler rests, only when the wandering singer or worker finds a place to stay, can he rightly bring such a friend into his life. This is not selfishness but reverence, a recognition that true companionship requires readiness and commitment.

There is also joy in his words: "a pet you can have some fun with and who does everything you do." For the bond of man and dog is not solemn only, but playful. Dogs run with us, walk with us, rest at our feet, share our moods, echo our joys. In them, the burdens of life are lightened, for they remind us of the sacred gift of presence. To throw a stick, to share a walk, to laugh as a dog leaps in delight—these are small things, yet they are treasures greater than crowns.

History offers many examples of this sacred bond. Recall Alexander the Great, whose dog Peritas fought alongside him in battle, saving his master’s life more than once. Or remember Greyfriars Bobby, the little terrier of Scotland, who for fourteen years guarded the grave of his departed master, enduring the cold and the rain until his own death. These tales show that the companionship of dogs is not trivial but heroic, a testimony that loyalty can outlast hardship, and joy can be found in even the simplest bonds.

O children of tomorrow, take this lesson: seek not only glory, wealth, or fleeting pleasure, but seek companionship—in friends, in family, and yes, in the humble creatures of the earth. For the heart was not made to walk alone. To share your days with another being, whether human or animal, is to live more deeply, to laugh more freely, and to carry burdens with greater ease.

Therefore, when you find your place in life, when the wandering settles and the roots deepen, do as Lachey teaches: welcome into your home those companions who will walk with you in loyalty. Care for them, honor them, learn from their joy and their steadfastness. For in their simple love lies a reflection of the divine, and in their presence you will find not only fun but the fullness of life.

Thus the teaching stands: to have a dog is not merely to keep a pet, but to welcome into your life a friend who shares your journey. Honor this gift, and your days will be richer, your home warmer, and your spirit stronger.