I have two Belgian Sheepdogs; Junior (left), Sandevel’s Get Out of Town Now, and Lily, Kennaree’s Lily the Hammer. Each has a large, expansive role in my consciousness and commands measures of love and attention most people only dream about.
So it is with the power of the canine.
Only one is the dog of my dreams.
Junior was 13 months old when he was spirited away from his canine mother and siblings to join our clan. The memories of that day, the look in his eyes, when I put him on a leash and walked him out the door to travel 600 miles to a new life. On a good day I tell myself he has a great life. On other days I feel like a kidnapper.
It’s a dog’s life.
Junior bonded to me immediately and can make me feel more important and special than I have right to feel. Thick as thieves, we wander life together. In winter, summer, spring and fall, man and dog together, part of the family, part of the world.
Junior loves the snow. I used to.
Nine months ago Lily the Hammer came to visit. Permanently. I’m not sure Junior realizes the connection to his roots. Lily is his niece, daughter of his sister Chloe, granddaughter of McKenna and Bing – Junior’s mother and father. Dogs work on you, slowly, consistently, inching their way into your life and then your heart, setting you up for catastrophic pain and anguish. The price of admission to the world of dogs
Each time I pay I swear the price is too dear. But in the cold, hard light of day – worth ever penny to have the dog of my dreams.
Junior has a special presence. He knows things. He sees things. It’s the kind of stuff every dog owner says about their dog.
In this case, it’s true.
Really. Junior is the dog of my dreams.
And Lily plays the same role in Kim’s dreams…