Archive: Opinions

Several weeks ago, my wife brought up the subject of getting a dog. Her proposal took my family by surprise. In the past, we had discussed the possibility of getting a puppy, but we never talked about bringing a mature dog into our home.

After all, we did not want someone else's pet, set in his or her ways, and unable to adapt to new owners and new surroundings. We wanted our very own puppy; a creature we could train. We imagined a small bundle of fur, with a wet nose, and cute features arriving in a small box. It would be ours and ours alone a unique product of our love and affection.

We imagined that, we would train the puppy to obey our commands. He would sit, beg, lie down, roll over, and make coffee with a simple command. "Sport" or "Spirit" would let out a certain bark when it was time to take care of business. She would wander to a certain, secluded corner of the property and neatly do what needed to get done. All would be right in the world.

Life would be grand as we taught our puppy to live in a house with two cats. The puppy would mature into a well behaved dog who knew his place in hierarchy of mammals. All of us would grow old together.

That perfect scenario changed when Buddy arrived for a trial sleep over. Buddy, an 11 year old Golden Lab, was in need of a new home. His family had experienced a separation and divorce. New living arrangements meant that Buddy could not live with either of his original owners.

So my wife convinced me and my son to allow a weekend test run. If Buddy could make it through the weekend without too much trauma, anxiety, or depression, he was ours.

As you might have guessed, Buddy had an enjoyable weekend. He suffered little, if any, trauma and showed no signs of anxiety or depression. He wagged his tail at the sound of his voice, and kissed us each time we got near his face. One look at his face and you melt as he gives a wink and reminds us that we are meant to be a family.

He is obedient, and lets us know when he needs to step out for a potty break. He walks with a slight limp which means I can keep up with him when he makes a break for it or when he is in pursuit of a squirrel.

Buddy is a joy. He has added a new dimension to our family of youthful exuberance in an aging body. There is a new balance in our home, and all of us, cats included, seem to be adjusting quite well. My Dad was right when he used to say to my brothers and me, "Your mother and I should have had dogs! At least they listen." And that is to the point.

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