Jet is a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. He weighs about 22 kilograms and has the structural integrity of a small car. He can open doors. He cannot close them.
When I arrive home, Jet meets me at the door. Not because he has been waiting there all day — he hasn’t, he has been asleep on the couch — but because he hears my key in the lock and covers the distance between the couch and the door in approximately one second flat. This is love, expressed at speed.
Dogs do not hedge their enthusiasm. They do not wonder if now is a good time, or whether you are in the mood, or if they are being too much. They have decided that you are great, and they intend to communicate this at every opportunity. As a philosophy of life, this is underrated.
I also love that Jet is called Jet. He is named after Jet Li, the martial artist, because when we got him he was very fast and we thought this was funny. He is still very fast. The name has held up.