One Man and His Dog(s)

ROCKY DOG · 11-23-2009, 05:06 AM

I am an Old Man. The grey hair, the specs and the pot belly confirm the undeniable fact that I am well past my sell by date. However I have been very lucky during my life for I have known some fabulous dogs. The difficulty when writing stories about dogs is that rarely are there any major incidents that are worthy of recording. Thankfully a life shared with a dog does not have to be a series of major events. All the memories are of simple things mostly incidents that would mean little to an outsider. “What’s the fuss all about?” might be a comment. - particularly from someone who doesn’t have much time for a four legged hairy creature which for much of the time exudes a musty smell. You can’t say much to such folks, after all, from time to time one gets the idea that it would be nice to live in a polished house with white carpets. However, believe me, horses attract more mud than a dog can ever do.

No, living with a dog is an every day affair. A man opens his eyes, gets up, puts his clothes on and maybe then the dog will get off the end of the bed. The dog does a little stretching and walks to the back door. The Old Man finds his keys, opens the door and moves towards the car parked on the driveway. Invariably the dog gets to the car first. The Old Man lets the dog into the car and then gets in himself. Another day has started. First job is to give the horse its breakfast, then to allow the dog a walk in the woods to do its business and have a sniff or two. As part of this routine, the dog completes his own first chores of the day: he has got the Old Man up, he has got the horse fed and he has watered the grass. And he has not said a word. It is all teamwork by man and dog.

Every one of the dogs in my life has been an individual. They have all had personalities of their own. Not one of them was mean and all of them seemed to put me on a pedestal. But that is what dogs do, isn‘t it?

Each one I remember for a different reason: Stomper walked with horses; Charlie chased chickens; Libby became my own company’s trade mark; Sam followed the horse; Toos carried on from Sam. Blunderbus guarded the house; Perko was the mistress of the household; Ducko chewed tyres; Jenna came for a visit and has never gone home. Rocky rolled his eyes at me in an animal rescue centre. That is a pack of two bull-breeds, three Rottweilers, three terriers and a spaniel. Only one passed away of her own accord. The others all called for my coming to make decisions I would rather not have had to make. Sadly that is too often the hidden long term cost of being responsible for the quality of life and well being of a dog.

But there are photos of all of them up on the walls, in the computer and in photo albums. Most of them still look at me each morning. Others just pop up from time to time as a surprise. One, as a screen saver looks at me directly every time I flip the switch. Not one of them has passed away from me, they each live on in my head. And perhaps that is exactly why, over the millennia, humans and canines have come to share their lives so closely together. A good man and his dog, can form a bond, and they can become inseparable.

Are you, yourself, one of the lucky ones?

Rocky Dog’s Dad