If any animal could cure addiction, it would be – the dog.

I’m sure of it.

Dogs came into our family late.  It wasn’t until Jacob was eleven, his sister grown and married, that we adopted our first greyhound.

Greyhounds #two, three, four and now five have followed.

We love the breed.  We love almost all dogs.

Jacob, too.

Even when he was at his worst, when his high school senior year sent us spiraling down a chasm I never saw opening, even then he loved the greyhounds.

Some of the strongest memories are of his saying goodbye to the dogs.  It was the last thing he did before leaving the house.  Dropping to the floor, he stretched out against their long, athletic forms, pressed his lips to their velvety heads, wordless, before rising to go, up and away.

Research abounds about the health benefits of dogs.  Movies, books and streaming series all laud how dogs can lower blood pressure, improve our mental state, even lengthen lives.

Rehab centers sometimes bring in dogs for training or to teach responsibility.  Most often, just for comfort.

My son, now eleven-plus years into recovery, is an adult living on his own a thousand miles away.  He still seeks the comfort of dogs for a daily walk or tussle, or just a simple conversation.

Despite all the promising advances in pharmacology in recent years, there is still no fail proof “drug” for addiction.

Certainly, canines can’t be a “cure.”  Nothing “cures” addiction.

But you’ll never convince me that the calming, loving presence of a greyhound or another soulful dog can’t help those suffering with addiction – whether it’s those with the addiction or the people who love them.

Just ask my greyhound.