A DOG

My mind has been going in several directions this Morning. I will not write about the crazy world, not yet. I could write a tribute to my Mother. It would have been her 104 birthday today. She was an amazing woman. I have written about her before and will again. The blog that has been running through my mind is about dogs. If I recorded all of it, it would be a very long blog.

When I miss writing a blog someone usually asks me, “How come?” Nobody did, when I didn't write Wednesday. In there lies a story. I was going to write Wednesday Morning but Jamie wanted me to drive her to her physical therapy [dealing with the aftermath of a dislocated shoulder] then we had an appointment in the afternoon at the Tri-County Humane Society, in St Cloud. That is the story of one dog.

Xena or Zena, we spelled it both ways came to us via our dog groomer, who knew we lost Rosie some months earlier. We were warned that Xena may have some issues because she had a somewhat traumatic background. Her previous owners were elderly and the wife had Alzheimer and the dog did not relate to her. Xena was bonded to the husband who took her everywhere in his truck. He died and his wife was placed in a rest home. The dog was with a relative who could not keep her.

At first we felt we were very fortunate to have such a wonderful pet. She was very much like Rosie being ½ Yorkie and ½ Poodle. For the the first few weeks she spent most of her time sitting in my lap, especially if we had company. My lap was her refuge. She gradually included others in her life and there was a time when she was a “normal” dog. She did the usual things like beg for food if I was having a snack, being alert to the opening of the refrigerator etc.

Her first out of character behavior happened several months after we got her. I would often have breakfast in the living room and she loved to lick my plate. One day she wouldn't do it. It was obvious she wanted to. She acted like she thought I didn't want her to. I thought maybe she was responding to some hand signals she knew from before. I tried everything I knew but I couldn't correct her notion that she shouldn't be licking a plate in the living room.

By gradual steps she pulled back from my physical presence, if I was in the house. In the last year she would not be in the living room with me, she spent all her time in what we call the back or West room where Jamie likes to sit at her computer. Yet she loved to go outside with me. I went out a minimum of four times a day doing chores. She loved being with me. She would often be at the door when I just thought of going out. She was strongly bonded to me. Why was she afraid to be in the living room with me? Several times I fetched her from the West room and held her in my lap in the living room. She would be nervous at first but would eventually relax. There wasn't any carry over. She would go in the living room when I wasn't there, so it wasn't the living room itself.

In the meantime, she would not bond with Jamie. She would never completely trust Jamie and would sometimes snap at her when she reached to pat her on the head.

Yes, and she had some annoying habits like pooping in the North room where I now sit. That isn't a deal breaker, I have picked up a lot of dog poop in my life. We had to keep the bathroom door closed as she preferred going in there. She was only an occasional in-door pooper but we could never figure out why.

We have had her for 2 ½ years, in the last year or so she spent most of the time in the west room with Jamie or by herself only coming out with me to do chores. Paradoxically she loves people, especially young people and children.

The decision to find a home for her where she would be more comfortable emerged over time.

She was happy about taking the trip to St Cloud and excited when we arrived at the Humane Center, it was as if she knew something. Three young women made a fuss over her and one said she knew somebody who would want to adopt her. The experience with the center was very positive. The staff were folks who loved what they did. It made a difficult situation easier.

We shared with them the whole story and recommended that she not be placed with older folks. They seemed to understand and said they have run into situations like this before.

When I went to bed on Wednesday Night I had a few tears thinking of Xena being caged for the Night. Thursday Morning, Naomi messaged me with the information that Xena has already been re-homed and she may not even have had to stay one night in a cage.

I have pangs once in awhile. I was picking up her favorite bones in the yard this Morning and experienced some sadness. I miss her when I go out to do the chores. It is a good thing, however, for her and for us.

The thoughts that were running through my mind were excerpts from many dog stories, it would be a very long blog. I might just venture in to that area another time.

In my 83 years on Planet Earth I have only been dog-less a few years. Dogs, no matter how big or small, take up a big space in our lives.

Happy Friday!

Love and Peace, Gregg