“Come here, little man”, I remarked, as he sat in his cage, the door always open for his 'viewing' enjoyment.
This refuge, from the outside world, helped him see life more
clearly as he sat inside patiently wondering, what's next? ... He was learning very quickly. ... It was a quick study in human and animal behaviour. We
looked at each other. His piercing green eyes stared at me, ever so
sweetly. He was our precious little boy, the newest member
of our family unit. He seemed human, oh so human.
His cage was the
biggest on the retail market, when we bought it, decades ago. It had to be for this yellow lovable retriever. The next
size up would have probably suited a miniature pony but we had a
retriever, not a pony. ... (His love affair with his cage is
understandable. It is the place he calls home, a quiet place for
timeouts (and there are so many, understandably) from the chewing
carousal of life...
Reclining on his folded comforter and another 'vintage' blanket from a former puppy, the 'Wiggler', our Mr. Wiggles,
curls up and cuddles with this comfy 'home' away from home. It is his
special place, late at night. ... His new bed is
wonderful. But for now, his cage is his 'blankie'. His beautiful face
is a composite riddle, this young male of ours, a mix of warmth,
exuding love and unending questions. ... He is ever so inquisitive, a unique spice blend of happy, calm and excitement. ... When Mall Cop visits his diminuitive terrier cousin it is a relationship of opposites. In one
corner, we have Mr. Wiggles, the lovable chewing machine, whose
internal apparatus is at the ready to gnaw the edible and non-edible
alike and wiggling to the absurd. ... In the other corner, you have lovable Mall Cop
whose initial quiet, 'leave me alone, kid' demeanour begs simply to
be forgotten and left to do what he does best: patrol the yard and
defend it - his way. (Inside, it is sleep time for many, 'perchance, to dream'!)
When talking to Miss S, our 75 pound female Labrador Retriever, it is to stroke
her sweet face, reminding her yet again how smart she is, how wonderful she is
watching over her younger brother, now a 72 pound burgeoning behemoth, a menace to all things
green, buried and tree related. He is a descendant
of 'Himself.' our 125 pound yellow retriever, who passed away in our car in the Spring of 1998
and 'Puppy boy', our 88 pound retriever, who died last Christmas, in
his 14th year. It's truly a family affair. ..She listens
ever so sweetly.
Funny how words can evolve to fit a certain person or beloved
pet. The word, 'Himself' was the chosen affectionate noun used by
Mall Cop's dad, once upon a time, when our son lived with us. His
fascination with all our retrievers kept us all laughing with the
stories he would act out with each one and the nicknames he would
assign to explain their personalities. He spoke their language.
Each
pet was very special, unlike any that had come before him or her. It
made sense to us, kept us laughing, even after their deaths. New
words were created, each befitting the special pet to whom it was
assigned, when each arrived on the scene. With the females, I
used priggy instead of 'pretty' to help them hear the word
more easily, using g's instead of the t's when I spoke to them. It made sense only to me and them.
Did they understand? No one knew. We felt they did. Talking to them
opened up my world as well as theirs in a special way. Was it reasonable? Yes, it was. It made sense to us, a family who loved their non human family so much. ...(Could this be a lesson in helping
children develop language?)
I look at our precious kitty, 'Tiggy' and think how far she has
come since being left to die that freezing cold morning-10 years ago.
She lies in wait for me, on the top bunk, far from the madding crowd,
surveying the city scape from the safety of her bunker, high atop her
'bunk'. She is easily stressed. So she is left alone and spoken to,
from afar. Having no whiskers makes it difficult for her to discern
her environment and the people in it. In the beginning, when she ran
outside of the fenced yard, I worried about her safety. There are birds and animals,
nocturnal and not, roaming about, in search of prey. She'd be
perfect food for them. We would search for her. I was disappointed by her actions.
'What did I do to deserve this, I would ask?” I let you roam,
outside with the dogs, in the fenced enclosure, in warmer weather and this is how you say thank you.” She would wait to tell me her side of
the story. Inside we would go and all was forgiven. Hugging wasn't her
thing. Miss S, Puppy Boy and now, Mr. Wiggles, are always there to
supervise-just in case! And admonish her, if need be. She would
listen and remain close by, just in case, most of the time!..
When Mall cop stays over with his sister, the 'bombshell' mini-schnauzer, Ella,
there is a rush to see who gets to sleep on the sofa, Once there, I
am left to beg, “Where do I sleep, people, after all, if I go to
bed upstairs, two of you are in your respective crates. And there
goes your freedom”. Alas, that settles that. I get the sofa and all
is good. “Sweet dreams, my dear little ones.” Morning will be here soon and I need to sleep. Good Night!
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