Kids see puppies and think they are so cute, so the youngsters beg and whine, and parents relent. Then parents are stuck paying vet bills, medical bills after bites, and the expenses of damaged property. Dogs are like having kids, if one takes the task seriously. The newness wears off, and the dogs are neglected. They require tons of training, exercise, affection and attention. People leave them home all day, and the dogs are bored and lonely. I wonder how many people realize what they are getting into.
Yet dogs can be great companions and give us much joy. My childhood dog was Scout, a pug. He was so loyal, he would march behind my father as he push-mowed the yard, Scout following six feet behind, track after track. Once in his old age and basically blind, Scout showed up at my father's car dealership, making his way down the hall to Dad's office. It was if he had followed Dad's scent there.
Someone close to me tells the story of Solovar and Tab. Tab was a golden retriever that lost a leg chasing a train. You see him in the photo above, the front leg missing. He lead a long and rewarding life. Solovar, slender above, became chubby. Actually, this dog isn't Solovar - it looks like a coon hound. But Solovar the beagle and Tab were great friends. Tab had a knack for spotting and chasing squirrels. Solovar was somewhat clueless at this, but made up in enthusiasm what he lacked in skill. Tab would jump up from a leisurely respite, barking, and chase a squirrel across a yard and up a tree. Solovar, not seeing the squirrel but bent on the chase just the same, would follow close behind, also barking, and then run full speed into the stopped Tab. Tab would be pointing out the rodent and Solovar would run full speed into him, bowling them both over like big balls of fur.
We owned several dogs as adults - I think three were Chesapeake Bay retrievers. Beautiful, protective, serious about hunting, they loved to swim and fetch for hours. These dogs loved having a job to do. But the dog I owned with the most character was Zack, a Chocolate Lab. The man we got him from had named him "skeezics." I think this was his abbreviation for "having the runs." Zack was the runt of the litter, and soon most of my possessions, from ice chests to skis to shoes to frisbees, retained the teeth marks left by him.
Zack must have been spoiled by us (with love), because he acted like and thought he was human. I would wake up in the morning to find him in the bed on his back with his head up on a pillow. He was charming in whimsical ways. He would open a sliding screen door with a quick flick of his nose. He would squeal like a baby pig with joy when he hadn't seen us in a while. One of my fondest memories was of the time he found a dried dead fish by a desert lake. He was so happy about that, he was beside himself. He dashed past me again and again at breakneck speeds with that fish in his mouth, like a bolt of lightning. I don't know how we ever got it away from him.
The worst thing about dogs is, they die before we do. It's heartbreaking. I don't handle it well. It leaves a huge hole. But I'll think fondly back about what we called Zack's 'augering in,' - burrowing his nose and one shoulder into the carpet, hind end hiked up into the air. Zack was the greatest. I'll never forget him.
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