There's just me and my wife and a dog and we feed him Healthy

Hear the earthy and unadorned words of Mike Ditka: “There’s just me and my wife and a dog and we feed him Healthy Choice also.” At first, this saying seems simple, even trivial, the casual remark of a man speaking of his household. Yet within its plainness lies a profound truth: that greatness is not only found on the field of battle or in the roar of the crowd, but in the quiet harmony of daily life, in the bond between husband, wife, and faithful companion, and in the shared bread of the table.

The ancients taught that the home is the smallest kingdom, yet the most sacred. To speak of me and my wife and a dog is to speak of the circle of trust and love, where the heart finds rest from the storms of the world. In this circle, there is no grandeur of empire, no march of armies, no clamoring for fame—only loyalty, simplicity, and the warmth of companionship. Ditka, warrior of the gridiron, speaks here not as coach or conqueror, but as man and husband, content with the fellowship of his household.

The mention of Healthy Choice carries with it a lesson too. For even in feeding, there is a discipline, a care for well-being, a desire that both man and beast live with health and strength. It is a reminder that love is not only expressed in words or gestures, but in the daily care of bodies and souls. To share the same food, to provide for one’s dog what one provides for oneself, is an act of equality, of stewardship, of kindness. It is a recognition that the dog is not merely an animal in the household, but part of the family’s circle of love.

Consider the story of Cincinnatus, the Roman farmer called from his plow to save his country. After victory, he laid aside his power and returned to his fields. The people marveled that a man who could command armies chose instead the simple life of home. Ditka’s words are of the same spirit: that though one may stride upon the great arenas of the world, the truest fulfillment lies in returning to the small circle of life—wife, companion, and creature—and finding contentment there.

Yet there is also humility in this quote. Ditka does not boast of riches, nor parade the wealth of kings. Instead, he names the ordinary: his wife, his dog, their meals. In this humility lies strength. For many chase after greatness in distant places, never seeing that greatness is already at their table, in the love of a spouse, in the loyalty of a dog, in the simple act of breaking bread. The wise know that the foundation of all glory is built upon such humble stones.

The teaching, then, is this: cherish the circle of your life. Do not scorn the smallness of daily acts, for in them the heart is shaped. Feed your family with care, treat your animals with kindness, honor your spouse with loyalty. These are the victories that endure longer than championships, longer than crowns. The applause of the world fades, but the quiet love of home resounds across eternity.

Practical action follows from this wisdom. Begin by seeing your household as sacred, no matter how small. Share what you have with both human and beast, not as duty, but as love. Care for health, for companionship, for joy, not only in public but in private. And above all, remember that life’s worth is not measured by the number of voices cheering your name, but by the depth of love within your walls.

So let Ditka’s words endure: “There’s just me and my wife and a dog and we feed him Healthy Choice also.” They are a reminder that greatness is not abandoned when we turn from stadiums to kitchens, but fulfilled. Live in such a way that your home becomes your truest kingdom, and your daily bread the richest feast. In this lies strength, in this lies peace, and in this lies the lasting joy of a life well lived.