Have you ever been sitting on the couch reading the newspaper or watching the news or catching up with a show on Amazon, and your dog comes up and stands on the floor and stares straight at you? I mean, right into your eyes. Our dog Ruby does it all the time. She’ll walk up and she’ll just look at Tracy until she does what she wants.
Ah! The joys of life with our doggies. My Tallulah lets me slip out of bed to put the coffee on and waits patiently for me to go back to the bedroom to help her off the bed. (She thinks she can't get down herself, for some reason, so it functions as a very safe and comfortable "crate" for both of us.) She decides whether it's breakfast or walk first and I pray for the first. I now know her stares and ask the same questions as you... walkies? treat? nap on the bed? She stares at me from 3 o'clock on waiting for me to say "Is anyone in this house hungry?" Circles and circles in joy at the words. She got me through the pandemic. What would we do without them?
Love letter. I feel the same way about my cat, who is dignified, silent, and snoozing all day and night. He follows me around like a dog without the whirling dervish antics, and sleeps pressed against me all night. I know he just wants a warm body mass, but I like to think he loves me too.
My current German Shepherd, Abbie, was, in her youth, an Air Force Ordinance sniffer. She's a hero. She's also the smartest dog I've ever been around. She is also totally ball obsessed. That's actually a trait they look for in sniffer dogs. Because the dogs aren't looking for bombs, dope, people, or whatever; they are looking for their ball. Abbie's favorites are squeaky balls. She chews the squeak out pretty fast though, so new ones that are still squeaky are mingled with ones without sound effects. With four balls of the same shape and color and only one that's still producing sound you can tell her "Abbie, get the squeaky ball." She will pick them up until she finds the one that squeaks and then be ready to play. Play time is all day. Every day. Here is Abbie's version of the Pete Seeger song "Turn, Turn, Turn" offered with no apologies of any kind.
"To everything, let's play ball
There is a season to play ball
And a time that we should go play ball
A time to build up
A time to play ball
A time to laugh
A time to play ball
A time to cast away balls
A time that we should play more ball"
I'm always singing to the critters. They each end up with their own personal theme song.
Your Ruby should meet our Maisie, whose days start with a trip to school followed with a long walk through the park, a morning nap, a ride, some more nap, another walk, school pickup, a walk, dinner, another walk, additional napping and a quick pit stop. She has taught us a lot about patience, kindness and more patience. I’d get a lot more done if she didn’t snore in my office, but I’d enjoy it a lot less.
As a lifelong dog lover and 'co-habitator' -- the ownership thing has always been problematic, as it is my firm belief that is the canine who ultimately 'owns' the human -- I appreciated your piece re: Ruby. I don't know how I would have survived the pandemic without Josie, the sixth in a long line of Golden Retrievers who have shared my domicile and, especially, my heart these last 45 years. She provided me with that routine you so perfectly described, along with heaps of love and affection that I can no longer count on from other directions. And when things got really, really tough...well, she was always there. Thanks again, Lucian, for another great, thoughtful and thought-provoking piece.
When he thought I'd been sitting at the laptop for too long, the late Travvy (short for Fellow Traveller) would pluck a sock out of my hiking boot near the door and cross my line of sight with it. If this didn't get me up, he'd stare at me with the purloined sock between his front paws. That always worked. His successor, Tam Lin -- like Trav, a malamute -- hasn't shown any interest in socks, but one day he lifted my check register off my chairside table and destroyed it. What I learned from that is that I didn't need the check register after all.
Ah! The joys of life with our doggies. My Tallulah lets me slip out of bed to put the coffee on and waits patiently for me to go back to the bedroom to help her off the bed. (She thinks she can't get down herself, for some reason, so it functions as a very safe and comfortable "crate" for both of us.) She decides whether it's breakfast or walk first and I pray for the first. I now know her stares and ask the same questions as you... walkies? treat? nap on the bed? She stares at me from 3 o'clock on waiting for me to say "Is anyone in this house hungry?" Circles and circles in joy at the words. She got me through the pandemic. What would we do without them?
Love, Love.
Awwwww. Made me cry😢⭐️
What a perfectly wonderful, ordinary article you've written. Sometimes we all need to just stop worrying about the world to enjoy our stay.
Thank you for the smile-and pet Ruby for me!
Love letter. I feel the same way about my cat, who is dignified, silent, and snoozing all day and night. He follows me around like a dog without the whirling dervish antics, and sleeps pressed against me all night. I know he just wants a warm body mass, but I like to think he loves me too.
So lovely. Ruby is every dog.
My current German Shepherd, Abbie, was, in her youth, an Air Force Ordinance sniffer. She's a hero. She's also the smartest dog I've ever been around. She is also totally ball obsessed. That's actually a trait they look for in sniffer dogs. Because the dogs aren't looking for bombs, dope, people, or whatever; they are looking for their ball. Abbie's favorites are squeaky balls. She chews the squeak out pretty fast though, so new ones that are still squeaky are mingled with ones without sound effects. With four balls of the same shape and color and only one that's still producing sound you can tell her "Abbie, get the squeaky ball." She will pick them up until she finds the one that squeaks and then be ready to play. Play time is all day. Every day. Here is Abbie's version of the Pete Seeger song "Turn, Turn, Turn" offered with no apologies of any kind.
"To everything, let's play ball
There is a season to play ball
And a time that we should go play ball
A time to build up
A time to play ball
A time to laugh
A time to play ball
A time to cast away balls
A time that we should play more ball"
I'm always singing to the critters. They each end up with their own personal theme song.
Your Ruby should meet our Maisie, whose days start with a trip to school followed with a long walk through the park, a morning nap, a ride, some more nap, another walk, school pickup, a walk, dinner, another walk, additional napping and a quick pit stop. She has taught us a lot about patience, kindness and more patience. I’d get a lot more done if she didn’t snore in my office, but I’d enjoy it a lot less.
Love this Lucian...😊
And don't you just love it when you can see they are happy..dogs can actually smile. And talk about body wags!
As a lifelong dog lover and 'co-habitator' -- the ownership thing has always been problematic, as it is my firm belief that is the canine who ultimately 'owns' the human -- I appreciated your piece re: Ruby. I don't know how I would have survived the pandemic without Josie, the sixth in a long line of Golden Retrievers who have shared my domicile and, especially, my heart these last 45 years. She provided me with that routine you so perfectly described, along with heaps of love and affection that I can no longer count on from other directions. And when things got really, really tough...well, she was always there. Thanks again, Lucian, for another great, thoughtful and thought-provoking piece.
When he thought I'd been sitting at the laptop for too long, the late Travvy (short for Fellow Traveller) would pluck a sock out of my hiking boot near the door and cross my line of sight with it. If this didn't get me up, he'd stare at me with the purloined sock between his front paws. That always worked. His successor, Tam Lin -- like Trav, a malamute -- hasn't shown any interest in socks, but one day he lifted my check register off my chairside table and destroyed it. What I learned from that is that I didn't need the check register after all.
We’re always amazed how suddenly doing the same things together every day is sublimely satisfying. This piece captures it perfectly.
Those gazes are dog-speak for “I love you.” Howie may be blind, but he tells me all the time…
♥️
Great story. Obvously Ruby considers you her slave who lives with her for only one purpose: to do her bidding :)