Do you have a dog? Thinking about getting a dog?

Those of you who know me know that I have two dogs that I love more than almost anything in the world. Maybe that's why I liked this column by Craig Wilson that I saw in USA Today.

Every day about 3 I take my Wheaten terrier, Maggie, for a walk. It breaks up the afternoon.
The route rarely changes. We go down to the park, up a few blocks past the tennis courts, then back into the neighborhood, passing a framing shop where Maggie learned years ago that treats await behind the counter. I am no longer embarrassed by our frequent visits.

"Maggie brought me!" I'll yell out when we come through the door. The women who work there know there will be no sale. They open the drawer, Maggie sits, a treat appears. This is repeated a couple of times, neighborhood gossip is exchanged, we move along.

Maggie and I have long talks on these daily walks. She listens to everything I have to say, and when she thinks something I've said is particularly profound, she'll stop, look up at me, then bark. This does not happen often, but it did the other day.

I was talking about Valentine's Day and what a stupid holiday it is. She stopped, looked up, barked.

"Yes, " I replied. "Stupid."

Dogs don't speak often. Maybe that's why they're man's best friend. But her reaction to my feelings about Valentine's Day seemed to touch a nerve with her. She, too, seems to know it's nothing more than a marketing gimmick.

I sense she's insulted by it, actually. Maggie has never given me a Valentine, taken me out to dinner or splurged on flowers. She knows she doesn't have to. I know she loves me and she knows I love her. No little candy hearts needed.

Years ago I recommended that everyone make a New Year's resolution to get a dog. A dog will turn your life around, I said.

My friend Mary did just that over the holidays and is now living the good life with Sadie, a girl with a questionable past. We're making no judgments here. What Sadie lacks in pedigree and looks she makes up for in personality. An age-old cliché, yes, but true.

Maggie and I took a walk with them the other day. Sadie scampered here and there, smelled everything there was to smell, then pretended to listen to whatever Mary and I were saying, cocking her head to the side every now and then.

But unlike Maggie, she never once stopped and barked. Maybe we said nothing profound. Maybe barking at profound thoughts is not one of Sadie's talents. Hers will no doubt surface in the years ahead.

Mary found her true love. Sadie found hers. You can, too, this Valentine's Day. Take the leap, then take a walk. Hundreds of treats are just around the corner for both of you.