December 9, 2020
Life with small dogs can be
said to be many things, but boring sure isn’t one of them. You may recall my
many essays over the years featuring our wonderful Mr. Tuffy. Three months
after our daughter moved in last year, bringing with her Tuffy’s only puppy friends,
her chihuahuas, we discovered that he had a massive tumor, and had to say
goodbye to him.
In all the years of his puppy
life that Tuffy and my daughter’s oldest, Bella, knew each other, he never had
been successful when she was in season—though he did sire one litter of pups with
Bella’s adopted sister, our daughter’s chihuahua/terrier cross, Ivy.
As a side note, I will tell
you that her two oldest dogs’ full names are Bella Donna and Poison Ivy. Our
daughter has my father’s sense of humor.
In the aftermath of losing
Tuffy, we were surprised when we discovered that Bella was pregnant. Jennifer’s
lone male chihuahua, Zeus, had been neutered years before, so Tuffy was the
only possible sire. Bella gave birth to three puppies, two males and one female.
The bigger of the two boys, who was all black and very fluffy, my daughter sold
to a friend of hers. I believe I told you at the time, that we had a dilemma
which puppy to keep of the two remaining.
It was no surprise to anyone
that, in the end, we kept both.
Bear and Missy do not look
like they’ve come from the same litter. Now, at a year old, they’re fully
grown. Missy is a solid ten pounds, and Bear is a solid three. On a good day.
Bear is perfectly healthy,
just small. He’s delicate in a lot of ways, and he’s smart. He eats delicately
and if the bigger than him, but still small dogs get wrestling, he doesn’t just
jump in. He carries out strategic little attacks. Yes, he’s that smart.
David thought he was too small
to survive, and that fear of losing another dog played on him heavily, which
was why he’d changed his mind as to which of the two we would keep—and is the
reason why we kept both. David couldn’t bond with Bear when he was tiny, but I
could and already had when he announced his “change of heart”. So, in terms of
emotional “possession”, Bear is mine, and Missy is his.
This is a delineation that the
puppies themselves seem to agree with. It’s been a year, as I said, and David
has come around and loves Bear as much as he loves Missy. They come to bed with
us each night, and when Missy starts to bark at things only she can see, Bear
crawls up close to me. He wants no part of her antics, behaviour that can and
has gotten her banned from the bedroom for the night.
Missy has a nick name, “box of
rocks”, a name that is a nod to her relative intelligence. She’s not very
smart, but she is loving, and loves her routines, and her brother, and her
people. She’s totally in love with Zeus, my daughter’s male teacup, and
gets so excited whenever she gets near him, but he’s not overly
impressed.
Missy is the first dog to be
walked every day, and that happens now around noon. Noon, because by that time
I am ready to take a break from my writing, something I have no choice but to
do when it’s walk time.
Why, you may ask, must I stop
writing when I don’t even walk any of the dogs? Let me tell you.
The moment the door closes behind
David and Missy, Bear begins to make noise. He howls, like a wolf or a coyote
caught in a trap. A loud, piercing, lament of sorrow, is that sound. And if my
daughter’s dogs are downstairs (they are always down with us if she is at
work), then under his leadership, they all begin to howl, too.
When the weather was warmer, I
found it an easy fix to open the door to the porch. Once Bear was on the porch
and could watch for the return of the daddy and the sister, the howling
stopped. However, now it’s December, and cold, and Bear, because he is a small
sized, albeit long-haired chihuahua, really feels the cold. Walks for him
require sweaters. So, no porch in the winter for him.
Fortunately, in the last few
weeks I have discovered that the “Lament of the Abandoned Bear-Bear dog” lasts
only about three minutes. Long enough to inspire a headache sometimes, and
always interfere with any focus for writing. But it does cease, thank goodness.
And of course, after about fifteen minutes, his sister and daddy return, and
all is well for Bear and for us.
Until, of course, David takes
Bear for his walk—leaving behind a clearly abandoned and totally
desolate Missy dog. A Missy dog who has no choice, of course… but to howl.
And yes, my friends, this
happens every single day. As I said, boring, those two little fur babies definitely
are not.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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