Dog is God Spelled Backwards

I came home one day last week and,as always, Molly was at the top of the stairs to greet me. As I gave her pets I noticed that she was holding her right front leg off the floor and not putting weight on it. Damn, she had hurt herself while I was gone, most likely by jumping off the sofa. Still she hobbled over to greet me. Humbled, I wasn’t sure I deserved her love. Roscoe is a step behind Molly, but just as enthusiastic. Molly has recovered from her leg injury. My doggies are part of  my immediate family. In honor of them and all the doggies I have loved I searched thru my past blogs to find what I had to say about some of the doggies I have loved.

Chico was a 4 pound chihuahua we found while walking on a foggy and rainy morning. No one claimed him from the humane society, so he became part of our family and he stole my heart. 

Feb. 2024  Chico ruled our house and Roger and I weren’t even ashamed to admit it. We could tuck him in our jackets when he got tired walking,  but he loved to cover a lot of ground in the old stadium field. Soon Chico gained quite the following among the other dog walkers and our neighbors—he was a celebrity. A little guy with a big presence…

 Chico didn’t run like a dog, he galloped like a horse, and it was so fun to watch!  When he ran down the sidewalk our neighbors cheered him on. He watched people’s feet with his doggie radar and moved quickly, bouncing around, sidestepping and evading, just like the prize fighter he was.  Nobody stepped on Chico. His doggie bed was the size of a doll bed, but mostly he burrowed under the covers to the bottom of our bed and we had to dig him out in the morning.  I loved to give him a kiss on the top of his head so my lip gloss left him marked with my kiss….

Molly let’s me know what she wants!

May 2024   I am typing this while sitting on my sofa and I just felt this light touch on my arm. It is my little dog Molly reaching out to me with her paw. She pats my arm to let me know she wants attention, and “pets” and probably to sit on my  lap. She doesn’t care how old I am, or how old I look, or how old I feel…

Covid musings.

November 2021   Those of us who are lucky enough to have indoor pets have been able to feel and pet warm bodies, and I prefer my  doggies to some humans I know. So hats off to our 4 legged pandemic pets.

Roscoe and Molly have very different personalities

July 2021  Some of you have heard me say “Roscoe is a hard dog to love, and I love him extra hard.” A mix of Chihuahua, wiener dog, mini pin and ?, Roscoe is cantankerous, nippy, and a scaredy cat ( my apologies to cat lovers).Right now he is whining and waiting for me to finish my T.V. dinner and set the bowl on the floor so he can lick it clean. He doesn’t know that I always leave a couple of teaspoons in the bowl for him…Entitled and insecure, Roscoe is full of contradictions. He hogs the bed but begs for comfort when he hears loud thunder… Roscoe plays with all the dogs at daycare and has no hesitancy with getting up close and personal with the big dogs. Roscoe is a big brother to Molly,  and watches out for her at daycare. Don’t mess with Molly or you will have to deal with Roscoe. Dogs have personalities, and Roscoe has a BIG personality. He stands up on his hind legs and braces himself on my knee and looks up at me with adoring eyes. Roscoe loves me, and he loves me BIG. 

And then there’s Molly, my sweet little dog who weighs in at eight pounds. Molly has a big bark and will bark at a dog 10 times her size. A mix of Chihuahua and ?, she can run circles around Roscoe.  She spins when she is waiting to get fed and I am amazed she does not get dizzy. She’s light on her feet and moves gracefully. When she perks up her ears she seems to be all ears, and her eyes are like the eyes of a deer. She gets what she wants with honey. Belly rubs are her favorite thing, if you stop she will reach out with her paw to get you to keep going. She wiggles her way in to get a space on your lap and even Roscoe has to defer to her. Roscoe rules the roost, but Molly has her share of work-arounds…

Roscoe, Molly and Me. I’m the only human member of this warm-blooded trio. Who’s in charge? I’d like to believe its me, but to be honest, some days I’d bet on the doggies.  Roscoe and Molly  own the bed, and despite the small amount of physical space they occupy I’m the one who cedes territory.

How do I explain how much I love Roscoe and Molly? We are like the 3 musketeers, “One for all and all for one. I am fiercely protective of them. There are lots of people who aren’t as human as Roscoe and Molly. For their part, they are dogs, but dogs that seem to know when I need comforting, and comfort me, play with me when I want to play, and love me always. I don’t feel lonely when I can pet my dogs. I feel blessed. I’m so grateful to be Roscoe’s and Molly’s human.  

Mia and Hoppy were part of our family before I started my blog. Each was a treasure in their own right. Hoppy was a Shitzu who looked like a puppy until she died at 15. The meadowlarks in the field are how she still talks to us. Mia was a sweetheart.  She adored Tyler and always had moon eyes for him. She was our Mama Mia.

 2024.  Pit bulls scare me,  but like me pit bulls get old too

Pitbulls Get Old Too

This morning I was walking my little doggies and spotted a  Pitbull being walked and I held up my doggies. I’ve learned avoidance is sometimes the best response . I stood and watched as the owner led the dog up the stairs to their house.Their progress was slow as the dog had a difficult time negotiating the stairs and moved very stiffly. At the top of the stairs the dog turned and I saw a very gray muzzle, and I realized the dog was quite old. Immediately, my heart was full of kinship and sorrow.  I thought, as my eyes teared up, “Yes, Pitbulls get old too.”

For a moment, that Pitbull and I were both old souls with beating hearts. I felt compassion for the two of us with our aging bodies.   Puppies and babies are so magnetic and lovable, we gravitate to them,  but old dogs and old people are an acquired taste. We learn to love aging faces and bodies as we ourselves are aging. Like the Pitbull, I explore the world on my daily walks and often spot something ordinary that brings me awe. I move slower; this speed allows the world to rush in over my walls.  The physical, emotional and spiritual losses that come with aging keep me tethered to resistance.  How do I overcome the urge to fight aging? I’m not into overcoming much of anything, now I just want to accept. Raging at my diminishing capabilities is a waste of precious time.  I choose instead to be grateful that my hearing aides and my glasses can compensate for some of the sensory deficits I have. The kindness of the pitbull’s owner help him to take in the world, and make sure that he isn’t isolated from the great “outside” and companionship. I’d like to think we humans want that for each other too.

I get to care for my doggies, as we both age.  We can count dog years and people years,  but we all know it’s the life in those years that counts.  We both deserve “treats” and walks every day, and massive amounts of unconditional love.