THE DOGGIE GIRL ...

Since I have never had a four-legged pet as a child, during my married life, my husband who is a cat man - (I know it's unusual for a man to be a cat person, but he is what he is) introduced me to the world of cats. So BK (before kids) cats were the pets of choice since their independence had the least impact on our childless social life.

Once the children came, and our cats went on to that Wild Kingdom in the Sky, my daughter wanted a dog. My husband wasn't receptive to the idea, so we decided to appease her with a cockatiel. KC Bird sufficed for awhile, but her request for a dog lingered in the back of my mind. I remember as a child that I always wanted a dog, and was told 'no' -- no explanation, no appeasement, just no. (My mom was so averse to any type of animal - and Dad paid the price with many years of spousal compromise for bringing home Skippy the Parakeet, that the topic was as forbidden as a conversation about the "birds and bees". Sex wasn't discussed, because, in my childhood domain, it didn't exist! Another topic for another day.

Well I decided that my daughter was not to be denied (at least that would be one less childhood trauma for her to hold against my parenting efforts), so utilizing my wifely skills (wink/wink! No, I really just nagged mercilessly) until, with quiet hostility - my other half's strongest emotional weapon -- we all went off to The Puppy Farm an in-breeding kennel in our area (which is again a completely other story), so my daughter/and I could finally get her/our puppy.

She chose the Doggie Girl, a red brown lass whose demeanor was quiet and unresponsive to human contact. She looked like a cute, miniature Ewalk. A Lhaso Apsa who wasn't supposed to grow larger that 7 - 8 lbs., or at least that's what the store attendant said. Yeah, right she's twenty-three pounds,, and the little sable colored darling eventually turned white to my dismay. There went the cute "little" Star War's ewalk. (Told you The Puppy Farm is a whole other chapter.)

My daughter dressed her in doll clothes and 'mothered' her, pampered her, annoyed her and loved her. My son trained her to stand on demand and beg, moving her paws as a gesture of "please." My husband, as stubborn as they come, was in a constant state of pout during her puppy years, ignoring The Doggie Girl; and when she annoyed him, would go into the kitchen and distract her by kicking at her food dish. She became extremely protective of her food, and my husband's habit of kicking her food dish, made her almost fearsome at eating time. No one dared get between The Doggie Girl and her vittles without a battle scar to remember the occurrence.

Well, anyway, as time passed, our little Doggie Girl learned that petting wasn't the most terrible human offense to her person and allowed us the privilege to touch her, if only for our own needs. Of course her squeals of delight when the right spot just behind her ear was rubbed, was only for our benefit.

The Doggie Girl trained us as much as we trained her. She demanded a treat whenever she did her business, and still to this day accepts her reward for a job well done. The Girl's major accomplishment,however, was winning over the last holdout to her charms -- the Master of the House. He eventually came around, and became the Doggie Girl's biggest conquest, doting on her more than the rest of us.

My children have grown and have moved to the West Coast, and now, 12 years later, Doggie Girl is the queen of the house. She is a bit sway-backed, has arthritis in one paw, (which decidedly has turned outwardly giving her a bit of a Charlie Chaplin walk,) and her eyes are a little droopy. She manages a few retrievals of a ball before she walks away from her one and only exercise session of the day. She isn't able to jump up on high places or furniture as she once did, but what she lacks in physical stamina, she compensates with the most extensive vocabulary of whines, moans and groans, a language she developed independently, to let us know her every desire. She is very vocal and very spoiled, as she looks up at the biggest recliner in history,(a Christmas gift gone awry!) and beckons to be lifted upon the Master's grandiose burgundy velour throne. She may be willful, annoying, and demanding at times, but no matter what anyone else thinks (and they all think as I do) -- she is my much beloved Doggie Girl and I respond to her every command...afterall I had 12 years of training!
- posted by rosemary @ 7:02 AM