Lessons From Lucy: The Simple Joys of an Old, Happy Dog

by Dave Barry

Lucy also won over Michelle’s mom, a.k.a. Bubbe, who is no pushover, by being an attentive audience for Bubbe’s repertoire of traditional Spanish and Yiddish songs.3 When Bubbe sings to her, Lucy sits utterly still, staring at Celia soulfully, as if deeply moved by the music.

I envy Lucy’s ability to not worry about things.

That’s what Lucy does: she makes the best of things. She’s way better at this than I am. I know much more than she does, but she knows something I don’t: how to be happy.

This book represents my attempt to understand how Lucy manages to be so happy, and to figure out whether I can use any of her methods to make my own life happier.

I’m going to think about Lucy—about the trustful, open, unreservedly joyful way she approaches everybody, and the happiness she clearly derives from her many friends.

It’s a simple song with an obvious, even corny, message: the everyday world around us, the things and people we take for granted—flowers, friends, trees, babies—are

Don’t Stop Having Fun. (And If You Have Stopped, Start Having Fun Again.)

Their attitude was: “We’re lions, and you are puny hairless sacks of meat.”

You know who’s really mindful, in her own way? Lucy.

Lucy. She is always in the present moment.

nobody loves you the way your dog loves you. When you’re with your dog, you may mentally be elsewhere, but your dog is not; your dog is always right there with you. When you’re gone, your dog is waiting for you to come back, so it can be with you again. Because being with you makes your dog happier than anything else.

She’s not just near me; she’s with me. And being with me makes her happy. It’s the simple pleasure of being in the moment with somebody you love.

Which means I spend a lot of time effectively ignoring people. Time after time I miss out, for no good reason, on the simple pleasure of human companionship.

Pay Attention to the People You Love. (Not Later. Right Now.)

Lucy spends every second she can being as close as she can be to the people she loves. This makes her a happy dog. 2. Mike Peters, who is a busy guy facing constant deadlines, still makes a point of making time for, and jumping on the trampoline with, the people he loves. And he is the happiest person I know over the age of three.

Try Not to Judge People by Their Looks, and Don’t Obsess Over Your Own.

Don’t Let Your Happiness Depend on Things; They Don’t Make You Truly Happy, and You’ll Never Have Enough Anyway.

Somewhere in the vast lifestyle gap between Buddhist monk and Bill Gates, there’s a sweet spot, where you have enough stuff to be comfortable, but not so much that it’s a burden, consuming most of your attention, leaving little left over for you to pay to your family, your friends, yourself. Where the sweet spot is depends on you, of course, but it’s probably a lot closer to the monk than to Bill.

And so, forty days after entering the hospital, Sophie left the same way she entered—in a wheelchair—but once outside she stood and walked to the car.

Be grateful for what you have. (It’s probably more than you think.)

Don’t let people who don’t know you tell you how you should feel.