It’s no secret to anyone that I’m a full-fledged, over-the-top dog lover. Dogs don’t judge. They forgive so easily. They simply take you at face-value and love unconditionally.
I often stop to recognize how fortunate we are that Lucy Pie came along into our lives. I just adore her. Her face is full of sweetness, and she’s loaded with personality. Anytime one of us returns home from anywhere, Lucy provides the kind of welcome deserved by one who’s been away for months on end, and whose return was anticipated with sheer uncertainty. The four-legged leaping, the whipping tail-wagging, the joyous barking is enough to sweep away the darkest of moods. And Lucy runs from one person to the next, bouncing off our shins while failing to maintain any sort of self-control. It’s as if she’s saying to each of us, “Look who’s come home! Can you believe it? We HAVE to celebrate!”
Our grand-dog, Dacotah displays similar, albeit a bit more controlled affection for her loved ones. There’s no chance of feeling lonely with these two canines around. I’m constantly amazed by their intelligence, and the way they figure out how to communicate with us.
Lucy has perfected a sort of loud yawn. She does this particularly when we awaken in the morning, or when someone comes home. She opens her jaws wide and emits a noise that sounds like she is saying, “Hiiii-eeee!” I always respond, “Hi, Baby,” and then Lucy’s tail begins to thump rapidly against the floor, so happy is she to be acknowledged.
And then there’s the sneeze. When Lucy’s excitement is too much for her to contain, she sneezes, again and again! She’s so funny.
Dacotah clacks her teeth when she wants something. She might be looking to be fed, or she might want a good scratching for her often dry skin. She knows I have the fingernails for it. She’ll sit facing me, locking eyes while snapping her jaw at me while I ask, “What choo want?” When I finally run my fingernails along her shoulders and back, her whole body melts into my hands.
It’s hard not to feel happy around these girls. And they love each other as much as they love their people. When Dacotah is visiting, there’s rarely a moment that Lucy isn’t glued to her side.
As much as Lucy loves Dacotah, she can be a bit possessive. If Dacotah takes a toy from Lucy’s overly-stuffed toy box, Lucy runs right over to snatch the toy from her. Honestly, I want to believe she’s not always just being selfish. I think she’s hoping that Dacotah will play. She wants to chase and play tug-of-war. But Lucy’s got a bit more puppy left in her than Dacotah, and Dacotah tends to just give up and walk away, prompting us to scold, “Loooo – Seeeee!”
Lucy doesn’t tend to be bothered by the scoldings. And she is most certainly selfish about sharing “her” people with Dacotah. Lucy thinks nothing of trying to steal all attention from Dacotah’s “daddy,” Jaeger. But if Dacotah pays attention to Lucy’s people, Lucy has to squeeze between and make sure Dacotah knows we belong to her, and her alone.
Even though Lucy can be very rambunctious and silly, there’s a gentle and comforting side to her too. She’s thrilled when my mom visits, and seems to know how fragile she is. When she comes over, Lucy tries hard to wait for Nana to get settled in a living room chair. Then Lucy slowly and carefully lifts herself into the chair too, squeezing in next to Nana. She tips her head way back to snuggle against my mom’s neck and shoulder, and sneaks a big, wet kiss if she can get away with it.
When I’m feeling quiet, sometimes Lucy comes to me as if to ask, “Are you okay?” She’ll move in front of me, then sit back on her haunches and hold her paws out for me to hold. She looks into my eyes and cocks her head as if trying to figure out what it is that’s going on with me.
When she sits like this, she knows I’ll eventually run my hand up and down the soft fur on her chest … and maybe this is all she’s really hoping for. But I like to think there’s more intention in her actions than just a good belly rub.
A friend and her family had to make the difficult decision to put their sixteen year-old dog down this week. I expressed my condolences and remembered what a sad and difficult decision that is to make. The loss of a beloved pet leaves an undeniable hole in one’s heart. I’ve been there too many times myself. Thinking of my friend’s loss reminded me what a gift our pets can be. They bring such joy and love to the household. I’ve always considered my four-legged kids to be members of the family. And in spite of the fur on the furniture, the occasional sock or slipper lost to puppy chewing, the periodic puking that happens just inside the back door, and the clean-up that has to be done in the yard, particularly after a snowy winter, I wouldn’t give it up for the world.
As Lucy was snuggling in my lap last night, I kissed her soft head and told her, “You’re a very special dog, you know that?” She simply sighed in contentment. I think she knows.