It’s pretty well known that I love dogs. I must, or I wouldn’t have four. Which was a happy accident. Not intentional. And, sometimes overwhelming. But they’re ours now.
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| New puppy. |
Last Memorial Day weekend I brought home a border collie puppy. Shelby. A new running partner. The old retriever just couldn’t keep up and I was missing my super smart, departed border collie, Paco. Also known as the World’s Greatest Dog.
There was something about this little puppy - how she jumped off the deck and ran right for me, a stranger, that reminded me of meeting him in the driveway of the farm where he came from.
She’s got an exaggerated head tilt, she does random things like drop her food from the bowl to the floor and then eat it, walks past a bowl full of water and checks to see if the lid to the toilet is open instead. Puts her paws up on the water dispenser on the fridge if the bowl is empty and the lid is down. Rolls in clover and freshly cut grass, inhaling like it’s the best experience of her life. All similar things to his behavior. It’s felt for some time that he’s around, whispering in her ear.
Running with her is fun but also challenging as just like him, she has to be the leader. Slightly in front. No matter how fast the pace. He loved to go on a run or a bike ride. He was also a thief. Of a cat burglar caliber. Jog by some kids playing, not notice anything in particular but a few minutes later realize he’s got a ball in his mouth - brazenly stolen in broad daylight.
The weather here has made a turn. We’ve gone from record rain to sunny and mid-seventies. Called for a nice evening run outside. A five miler. Just the right distance for both of us to finish before dinner.
At mile three I realized. She’d stolen a ball from a kid somewhere on the route. On the fifth year anniversary of Paco’s death.
He was there. Whispering in her ear.
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| Smart dogs go formal. |
