I have a Lab, it's fun to hang out and hike with the dog, people

The actor George Eads once said with simplicity and warmth: “I have a Lab, it's fun to hang out and hike with the dog, people come up to him, and pet him, it's fun.” Though these words appear casual, spoken in the ease of affection, they conceal within them a truth that the ancients themselves would recognize—the sacred bond between humankind and the faithful companion. His words, woven with laughter and joy, reveal that in the company of a dog, life takes on a brightness, and burdens are lightened by loyalty and play.

The Lab, or Labrador Retriever, is not merely a pet but a symbol of companionship, loyalty, and shared adventure. To say “it is fun to hike with the dog” is to recognize the joy of walking the earth not alone but side by side with a being who loves unconditionally, without judgment, without guile. The dog becomes both guardian and friend, a fellow traveler on the path of life. In every wag of the tail, in every joyful leap, the Lab reflects the ancient covenant between humans and animals, a bond forged when the first wolves laid aside their wildness to sit by the fire of early man.

When people come up and pet the dog, it is more than social exchange—it is communion. The dog, with open heart and trusting eyes, becomes a bridge between strangers. What barriers fall away when a gentle creature invites touch? Men and women who might never have spoken find themselves smiling together, united by affection for the faithful companion. In this way, the dog does what laws and decrees cannot: it brings people into harmony, softening hearts, opening hands. The ancients would say this is no small thing, but the quiet work of peace.

History itself confirms the role of the dog as a bringer of joy and kinship. Consider Alexander the Great, who journeyed with his beloved dog Peritas. In battles fierce and lands unknown, Peritas stood by his side. When Peritas died after saving Alexander from an enemy charge, the mighty conqueror wept openly and built a city in his honor. What king has done so for a man, and yet here he did so for a dog? Such is the power of this bond. The humble creature brings laughter in times of peace and courage in times of trial.

Eads’ words also reveal a truth about joy in simplicity. He does not speak of riches or triumphs, but of walking, hiking, being present with a faithful Lab. This is the kind of joy that endures when wealth fades and fame grows silent. To find delight in a companion, to greet the kindness of strangers, to walk beneath the sky with a loyal friend—this is the essence of happiness that the wise have always counseled. What emperors sought in marble halls, one may find on a forest path with a dog by one’s side.

The lesson, therefore, is clear: cherish companionship, seek joy in simple things, and honor the creatures that walk beside you. If you have a dog, do not neglect its company; walk with it, play with it, allow it to be the bridge between you and the world. If you do not, still learn from the truth embodied in these creatures: to be loyal, to love without condition, to greet both friend and stranger with openness of heart.

Practical action flows easily from this wisdom. Take time each day to step away from the rush of labor, and walk with those you love—whether they have two legs or four. Allow yourself to smile with strangers, to let a shared affection or a kind word break down walls of solitude. Recognize that joy is not far off, hidden in grand events, but here in the gentle presence of a friend, the faithful dog, the laughter of the moment. In this way, life becomes not a burden to endure but a journey to share.

Thus the words of George Eads, lighthearted though they seem, become an enduring teaching: that in companionship, in kindness, and in shared simple joys, life reveals its truest treasures. Like the ancients who found wisdom in the loyalty of their hounds, so too can we find guidance in the wag of a tail and the warmth of a faithful heart.