Ramblings of a Happy Mind
By Nita Wilson
So, I have these two dogs. Same mother, different father in the same litter. Mother is a beautiful Springer Spaniel belonging to a friend of mine, however she’s a wanton woman who got out of her own yard a few years ago while she was… well, you know, and was the loose woman of the neighborhood. Is there any wonder there are two fathers? I ask you, can she just stay home, nope, she’s just too needy and loves to be loved evidently. Anywhoo, I have two of her last litter from five years ago. A dainty pretty girl named ‘Dash’ who looks very much like a cross between her Spaniel mother and a Border Collie. She’s as polite and sweet as a southern belle, and brilliant. Now, I say she’s sweet, she’ll take your head off if you attempt to come into my backyard or if you threaten to harm her brother. Now, there is her brother, ‘Bronte’ a beautiful liver and white muscular dog with a southern hound dog face and boxer body. I’d like to say he’s a perfect southern gentleman and is as smart as his sister, he’s not. He’s a 60lb rambunctious porch hound who’ll step on your toe if he comes within a few feet of you, dumb as the holes he’s dug in my once beautiful back yard and has decided all by himself, he’s the alpha dog. Now, here’s the clinker, Dash has allowed him to be the alpha dog. She is in charge of where they bark at squirrels and where he’s to dig for the little moles they love to torment, but she manipulates it so he thinks everything is his idea. She allows him to eat first, come first into the house, go first out of the house, and he’s dumb enough to think it’s his idea. Now, I’d talk about southerners and how the sisters have, for years waited on the brothers, but that’s a different day, today, I’m talking about the dogs. I have a large ottoman in front of my sofa in the sitting room that has become Bronte’s TV bed while the three of us watch TV or when I’m writing and they sleep and wait for me to finish clicking on the weird board on my desk. Dash is happy with the sofa. Now sometimes, she just needs a change and wants the ottoman. She’ll go to the window and bark at an imaginary foe and he’ll jump off the ottoman and hit the window barking and growling. She then, slowly and calmly stretches her back legs, and jumps onto the ottoman. He continues to bark at nothing until he realizes he’s in the fight alone and turns back to see his seat has been usurped. This has worked for five years and he’s never caught on. Dumb as the balls of hair they leave under my computer desk.
Well, I started this to tell you about last Saturday morning. On bad days they stay inside and only go out to do their business. It has become a habit, rain go inside, thunder go inside, black clouds go inside. Saturday morning I was packing the car for the trip to the Coast for the book signing and it began to rain. I went to the back porch to prepare it for them to spend the night. Bronte began to bark and growl to let me know it was raining.
“Okay, big boy, not today. You guys just stay in your beds on the porch and I’ll leave the light on for you tonight.”
“Bark growl, bark growl, mean look, bark growl.”
“Oh really? You threatening me, big guy?”
“Bark bark, growl growl.” At this point he was batting his head against the back screen door. “Bark, Bark, Bark.” I took this to mean,
“Hey bitch, we want in and we want in now.”
So being the hand that feeds them, I was a little taken back by this ingratitude.
“Really you, ass? You gonna bark and growl at me? Go get in your bed and lick.. well, you know what you do?”
“Bark, Bark bark….”
“Oh, you don’t have any?” He stopped barking and looked at me and did one of his sideways looks.
“That’s right, fella, you used to have them. Who’s the alpha dog now, huh? Ha ha, um huh, you wanna bark now?”
He came over and put his head under my hand to be petted and of course stepped on my fresh pedicure. I gave him a big hug and went inside. Now… I have to wonder just how dumb the dog is; I mean did I put the fear of God in him by reminding him of my power to take him to the vet? Or did he get the last laugh by stepping on my fresh toe nail polish? Either way; I believe God gave us house pets to prove to us we can be loved unconditionally. Sometimes we’re not sure God does. Well if we believe it from our pets; why not from our Heavenly Father and the Universe? Nez pa?