Dog Gone It

Last night I slept alone. There was none of that quiet snoring from my old man Winston, no quiet pacing from Ziggy, and no wild-eyed stare-downs with Samantha. My dogs were gone, spending the night at Brickwood Kennel, their home away from home. When I arrived home last night after a late afternoon appointment, I reached for the door knob and didn't hear the expected scuffling from my three dogs running on top of each other to greet me. I didn't feel the pressure against the door when I tried to open it. I didn't get mowed down by a gang of dogs. I didn't get lovingly assaulted by their pawing nor repeatedly lashed by their tongues.

I miss them. All of them, Winston, Ziggy and Samantha.

Ziggy is the smallest one and the oldest one. He is also the smartest one. He was, up until recently, the 15 year old which acted like a 5 year old. He could pass as Benji's double. But lately he has slowed down. He seems a little sad, maybe jealous of Samantha, my youngest dog, a puppy. I told Dale at Brickwood Kennel that I didn't know what was wrong with him, he just wasn't himself. And she said "He IS 15 years old." I had this perplexed look on my face as if I didn't understand. I replied, "But don't small dogs live until they are 25?" And she just turned her head side to side and said again, "He is 15 years old." I then was faced with Ziggy's mortality and the fact that he could die and not in the too far off future. He was simply like me, getting older but in dog years.



Winston is my largest dog at 65 pounds. His face has grayed and sort of looks a little racoonish. He is a tan colored dog with a high back. I know he has black lab in him; I saw his brothers and sisters. I adopted Winston 14 years ago. It was one of those times I was talked into taking him home as a puppy and I just couldn't give him back, puppy smell with baby-fat rolls. I named him Winston, after Churchill. He is my reminder that I did run the London Marathon that many years ago. Now, he is also my geriatric dog. He has sore joints and has trouble jumping into the car. He takes up most of the space on my bed, has restless leg syndrome, very bad gas and snores.

Samantha "Twinkletoes" is my puppy and the only female dog I have ever cohabitated with. She is the Energized Bunny on speed. Abandoned on a farm in the County with her sister, she came to me via a friend. I remember seeing her photo in the e-mail from Toni. Everyday at work I would open it. It made me smile. The photo said to me "You are the one I've been searching for." Samantha had picked me, not the other way around. Finally after a week of looking at her photo I called Toni and said I would adopt her. When I saw her it was love at first site. I took the funny little fur-ball home. The first several days I noticed Samantha would sit side-saddle. She didn't seem to be able to sit like other dogs, on her haunches with her rear legs bent and her front legs sandwiched between. I thought perhaps it was because she was a puppy. But when I took her to Dr. Zak, we surmised she did have a deformity. She had rickets, which is a vitamin D deficiency. Samantha can not bend he rear legs as a result. But today at 2 years old Samantha is the fastest dog I know. She has totally compensated  for her disability. Not only is she fast, she is an acrobat performing handstands down my old farmhouse stairs. She is amazing.

When I think about my dogs I wonder, "Do they know how long I am gone?", "Do dogs smile?", "How come they always seem so happy to see me?", "They never care what I look like." and I think "They know what love is."

How is it that animals can seemingly give so much more to us than humans do to each other? If I died tomorrow I think I would like to return as a dog.