If asked, I’d probably say I’m a cat person. They suit my personality with their independent, even indifferent attitudes. I also like fish. But even as I say this I have one dog asleep at my feet and another curled up next to me in my chair. They’re not my first dogs, but the first in a very long time. The first was Bitsy. And I almost don’t even count her. She was a present from my parents, a companion in case I was lonely when my sister started kindergarten. Bitsy and I….well we weren’t close. She wasn’t one of those dogs, like Nana, that assumed the position of child guardian. More like “don’t leave me alone with that child or I can’t be held responsible for what happens”. So even though Bitsy was referred to as “my” dog, she and I always knew the score.
Bitsy Not Posing. Me Not Holding a Weapon.
Many (many) years later I got another dog; again as a gift (isn’t there some sort of a rule against that?), this time from my husband. When he brought her home she was five pounds, pitifully unhealthy, and unbearably shy, so I named her Violet. I honestly didn’t think she was going to make it. But she did. She thrived in fact.
5 Weeks Old, 5 Pounds
And GREW.
7 Years Old, 70 Pounds
Violet and I were a more successful match. For the past four years she has been my almost constant companion. She has been a balm during some rocky times. She changed me. Over the years, learning how to respond to her needs, I became more patient and flexible.
And then a few weeks ago, my husband did it again (are you sensing a trend?).
3 and a Half Pounds of Cute
Big Dog, Little Dog
Coco is a different dog experience for me. In fact she is a little like a puppy/kitten mixture. She is playful and cuddly and fuzzy. She bats at my face when I talk and plays with Violet’s tail. On the other hand, she also barks at dogs on TV.
So there they are; my three terriers: Bitsy the Toy Fox, Violet the Staffordshire and Coco the Yorkshire. I’d tell you more about them, but right now it’s time for a walk…
… and then maybe a nap!
