A Dog to Love

I still remember that Christmas: getting up at dawn, rushing down the stairs, carefully plugging in the tree lights, and listening for any sounds of life. I was about five years old, and I had been lobbying my parents for months to get me a puppy. I swore to them that my allergies would not be a problem, nor would I allow the dog to annoy the grumpy old man next door. I WANTED A DOG! I was certain that my pleading, pouting and tears would win over my parents, and that Santa would grant me my wish.

That morning, I searched high and low, and then I saw it. I could not believe my eyes – it was a STUFFED DOG! There had to be some mistake. What planet was Santa living on? Hadn’t I made myself very clear? It was a real dog that I wanted. One that I could love, that would lick my face, jump into my lap, and follow me to school - not some dopey stuffed animal, which would sit impassively on my bed! My heart still aches at the memory.

My family did eventually get dogs. First came Silky, and then Max; but by then I was grown up and out of the house.

My puppy longing has never subsided. Over the years, with all my travels, it never seemed fair to take on the responsibility of owning a puppy. But, I have enjoyed the dogs of others - walking, petting, and baby-sitting them whenever given the chance. I have revelled in the many awards that my friend Kate’s Scotties have won. And, I have wept tears with my friends Linley, Cathy and Michelle as they lost their beloved pets. Only this past week, a new friend and blogger Kary lost her sweet Buddy.

But, I have a new dog in my life, my grand-pup Winnie. Isn’t she beautiful? We’ve yet to meet. But I love her already.

They call it Puppy Love,
Marjorie