My Dog

When I first met my dog she was only six months old. At best she would live to be about 15 years old. My hope for myself is that I will live to be least 90. At that time I was 32. So with the prospect of living for another 58 years and having my dog expire when I was 47... I decided I was not going to love the dog. Why invest in a love that is temporary at best..... and suffer the loss when it has to end. That's not for me. My dog however had other intentions. We brought home our dog in April... In Maine, that is when nice weather is starting to tease us with a nice day thrown in here and there. My yard is small, but so is my dog. She was already housebroken when we got her home, we just need to train each other on the where and when. On the nice days a leash would be involved, and on the not so nice days, a leash with a length of rope tied to it would let me stay inside while she went outside. On the days we went out together, some training took place... sit, stay and come here, all mastered. She did it for cheese, she did it for treats, she did it for me. I was trained to read her facial expressions and body language. What I first thought was a neurological seizure disorder complete with growling and gnashing teeth turned out to be an invitation to play and rough-house. The treats were a bonus, but she would have run across hot coals if I had called her, for nothing more than to be close to me. It got to the point where I could just let her out... she would do her business, and run back in. As time went on, that first year, and the weather turned cold, this seemed like the ultimate achievement. Then is snowed. My dog loves the snow. I let her out that first morning into a few inches of snow, she did her job, and with every step kicked up a bit of snow that needed to be chased. I watched her play in this new found fun. I watched her run to the side of the house, and told her "No" as I had done many time before.... and until this point had always been obeyed. I watched as she disappeared from my sight, snow still falling, wind blowing, me in my pajamas, barefooted. I called out to her a few times, but she failed to reappear. I don't know if she couldn't hear me through the snowy wind, failed to recognize the do not pass line because it was covered in snow, or if her brain was muddled by snow induced Adrenalin. But she was gone. I gave chase, barefooted, in the snow, her tracks went to the road, where the plow had already been, and vanished. I ran back inside.. pulled on boots, and my coat and continued the search.... calling and looking through fogged up glasses. (Did I mention my dog is small and mostly white, and not very visible in a snowstorm.) I went around the block, and back to the house. I let my wife know what was going on, (She was surprised that the dog had ran away, and was sure I would have found her.) She was getting suited up to search when I went back outside to continue. And I heard a bark.... We travel, once or twice a year, and always board the dog, (We call it Puppy Camp). Every time I go to pick up the dog after our trip, I always hear the dogs barking from the kennel area. There might be a dozen dogs barking back there, but I can pick out my dog's bark. ....I heard MY dog's bark. I ran through my backyard and the backyard of the house behind me and into the street a block over in the opposite direction of where I saw the dog run off. There was a woman, shoveling her driveway. Every time she threw a shovel full of snow, My stupid dog would attack the snow, and bark at it, and then wait for the next shovel full. I scooped the little dog up, and thanked the woman for keeping her there so I could find her. When I got her home, I started to cry, and apologized to her for letting her out without a leash and for all the things that could have happened.

After that, I added a wire dog run from the back porch to a tree. Later, I fenced in the yard. She likes her little fenced in yard. The moment there is any stress in the house.. she runs to me and wants me to hold her. Every nite when I get into bed, she jumps up, looks at my face, gives me a few licks.. (To tuck me in) and curls up at my feet. There were 4 of us in the house, when we added our lil dog, and of all the people in the house.. she picked me to be the one.... I love my dog. Good Girl.