I love dogs. I enjoy their quirkiness and find their personalities endlessly entertaining. I appreciate the companion qualities dogs possess--and I have chosen to have breeds for many years that are bred for their people attachment. I like the happiness a dog emits when you come home. I cannot help but smile and feel loved when I am welcomed at the door with bright eyes and a wagging tail.
My first dog was a black cocker spaniel, Mitsy. She loved children and her family's kids had all grown up and left home. She would follow my brother home from grade school every afternoon and play with us until suppertime when her owners would drive over to get her. After a while they asked my parents if we would like to have her. I remember her gentleness and patience with us as we dressed her up and wheeled her around in a baby carriage. She was extraordinary as I think back on it.
My parents never dealt with the death of our pets. The animals would just disappear and no one would talk about it. I don't agree with this approach and tried hard with my son to be inclusive and present to the dying process. I remember several dogs and a number of cats that died when my son was growing up that took on various levels of discussions, emotional processing and time to grieve together. I guess my parents just didn't want to deal with us about our pets dying.
So, Mitsy disappeared when I was about 8. We had a number of outside cats that I enjoyed, although I missed having a dog around. During this time I watched Lassie on Sunday nights at my grandparents' house on TV. I lived vicariously through Timmy and spent many hours during the week following each episode playing and re-playing the scenes with Lassie. I really liked her and her ability to protect and rescue, neither of which I experienced at my house. To think that those things could be provided by an animal made it just that much more exciting.
When I was 10, we went to a farm who had a wire haired terrier puppy that they didn't want. I begged. Little did I know about terriers and their independence and fistyness. Marcus Aurelius lived long after I had left home. The cool thing about him was his habbit of walking each morning to my familys' business, a lumber yard. It was about a mile walk. Then he would catch a ride home at lunchtime and take a nap for the afternoon. In his old age he became completely blind and still would walk down to the office each morning. People in the little town knew to watch out for him.
My first dog as an adult was a basset hound who I named Tristum (which means sad). I had had a lot of people who I loved die and was in a serious grieving time when I got him. Bassets are stubborn and this boy was cuddly and attentive, which is just what I needed. I had him until he was 9 years old and one week after my son was born, Tristum was killed when hit by a car. I was devastated. I swore that I would never have another dog.
About a year and a half later my son and niece came home from the mall with a very cute puppy. They rang the bell and handed him to me when I opened the door. At first I was absolutely against keeping the dog. "But Mommy, his name is Happy Dog", is what Shannon, then a year and a half, said. He was a German Shepard, black lab mix and was only about a year old when I had to find him another home as I was moving in with friends who were allergic to dogs.
Hobbit was my next dog. I drove by the humane society accidentally and went in and there she was. I couldn't stop thinking about her. So, I went back to get her. She was sitting on the lap of a grey-haired woman in front of the building entrance. I started talking with her and she said she came every day to make sure they didn't euthanize her. Hobbit looked exactly like a dog this woman had owned and she lived in housing that didn't allow dogs. She was so excited when I adopted Hobbit. Hobbit was part terrier and I don't know what else. She was grey and beautiful! They thought she was about 2 when I got her and I had her about 19 years.
I will give her another paragraph since she was my heart dog. What I remember clearly was how she would go cross country skiing and on the way up to the tundra (4 hours) she would go off in the trees near the trail and jump up and down through the deep snow always keeping track of me. Then on the way down (1 hour) she would run right behind my skies as fast as I went. She loved going for walks and being out in nature. I love her with all my heart.
A few years before I had Hobbit put to sleep I got my first Tibetan Spaniel, Jonnie. He was my therapy dog and there were clients who would not talk with me until Jonnie was there. He was snugly, smart, adored Hobbit and also enjoyed our walks, although not as much as Hobbit. I had never had more than one dog and got a sense of dogs as pack animals. Jonnie died of kidney failure when he was 10. I was heart broken.
I went back to the same breeder almost immediately and got Jonnie's nephew, Arty. He was beautiful! He was a very affectionate dog, a bit shy and aloof while being extremely tuned in to me. He was not interested in being around my clients. However, when my string quartet would come to my house to play music Arty would sleep in the middle of our music stands for the entire 2 and a half hours we would play. He loved music!
When Hobbit was gone I couldn't stand it and immediately found another Tibetan Spaniel from a breeder in Michigan. Abracadabra was a magical wisp of a dog. She flitted around and I never truly connected with her, although I loved her very much. I also got another girl from the same breeder, Ladybug. So I had 3 dogs, all Tibbies: Arty, Abracadabra and Ladybug. They all lived to be 17 years old and I lost Arty and Abracadabra with a few months of each other.
I had Ladybug for several years after that. She had never liked me. When I would come near her she would turn her head away, stick her nose in the air and ignore me. Finally, when it was just her I sat her down and told her that if she was so miserable with me I would find her another home. I wanted a companion and if she didn't want to be that we would do something different. She immediately shaped up. This was after I'd had her for 14 years! She was completely deaf her last year and a half and we used hand signals to communicate fairly successfully. I found it challenging to be her mom alone without the other dogs but we were quite close by the end.
On a whim I looked up Arty and Jonnie's breeder about 6 months after Ladybug had died. When I called her she said she no longer bred Tibbies but she had sold Arty's son, Owen, to a couple in Pennsylvania. She gave me their names and their kennel and suggested I get in touch with them. When I talked with him, he said he had Arty's son, grandson, and great grandson that were all available for adoption. I went on the web site and looked. The great grandson who was named T.J. (Tonka Junior) pulled me in. This couple lived a couple of hours from where my sister lives and I was going back there for Christmas and made arrangements to pick him up then.
I agonized about getting him. Did I really want a dog? Did I really want the responsibility? The expense? Even when I saw him I was sure. Then the first week I had him at my sister's and we were around family and kids, I saw what an extraordinary, patient, gentle boy he was. Then I agonized about his name and finally settled on Taj. I am especially enjoying Taj for the many long walks we take now. Every day, because he his still only 2 years old, we need to go on at least one long walk. It is so good for me to be out in nature walking! I love Taj and we are growing closer as time goes on.
So, that is my "girl and her dogs" stories for tonight. I can't imagine my life without them being part of it. I have learned about, commitment, nurturing, responsibility, safety, protection, and opening my heart to love. Having dogs has enriched my life exponentially and made me extremely happy. Even going through losing them has been a deep blessing. I just love dogs!!!!!!!
