3 dog life

LibbyLogic has become a dog blog.

I didn't mean for it to happen -- but in reading over my past entries I have noticed one thing comes up again and again -- my dog. I'm sure that if I had a kid it would be a kid blog -- and my sofa would still be whole. But since most of my free time is spent with a creature who would rather eat a book than read one I have been writing mostly about dogs. But, never fear, I have noticed the trend and will do my best to expand my horizons to topics other than Sally.

After all, she wasn't my first dog.

My first dog was Coco, a small gray poodle who came to live with me when I was 18. This was back in the days when I jogged willfully instead of at gunpoint. Every night I would go out for a run and about a block into it be joined by Coco and his mate, I'm not kidding, Chanel. We would all run and then I would drop them back at their home and put them back in their yard before running the last block to my house. They usually beat me there, tunneling out once again under the fence. I would stretch out and wait for their owner, a large burly man who should not have owned dogs named Coco and Chanel, to come pick them up. Then I would go inside and tell my mother we should keep them, and she would roll her eyes. This went on for months until my Mother was outside with me one evening when the dogs' owner came to get them. Chanel got in the car instantly, but Coco cowered. The man went for the back of neck, making him yelp. Then I heard a voice behind me.

"Put the dog down." It was my mother, but it didn't sound like my Mother. It sounded like the voice of wrath.

"This is a four hundred dollar dog lady. You want to pay me for him?" I think the owner already knew he was beaten -- but he had to put on a good face.

"I'm not giving you any money. Put the dog down and go." I honestly think that if the man hadn't gotten in his car at that instant beams would have shot from my Mother's eyes and reduced him to ash. Instead he wisely chose to turn and go; and Coco scampered into the house with a new champion.

Coco -- now about 102 years old

I wanted to take Coco with me when I moved out of the house, but my first apartment didn't take dogs and by the time I landed in a place that did my parents both looked at me like "you want to take our dog" and offered me the crazy calico cat instead. I wasn't taking her -- she had devil eyes.

I remained dogless for nine years after that -- but always had my eye out for a new canine companion. I didn't want to just go pick out a dog though -- I wanted it to come to me.

Stella showed up in the spring of 2003. She was the dog of Ryan's friend Amy who was heading of to grad school. She wanted someone to watch after Stella until she got settled. Three months turned into six months and six months turned to nine. After ten months I told Ryan that if Amy ever wanted Stella back I would have to flee with the dog to Mexico. We would send him a postcard with a picture of both of us, wearing sombreros and small mustaches. Stella now lived with me -- and we couldn't be happier. At least, until the summer of 2004.

Benedict Stella

That summer Ryan and I decided to go to New Zealand and Fiji -- leaving Stella in the care of my parents. Big mistake. We had just placed her in dog heaven. She was allowed to sleep on the beds, was given treats and had Coco and my parents' other dog Penny to romp with. To seal the deal my parents got just gotten a kitten. Stella imprinted on little Smarty -- and decided she had found a new home. When Ryan and I returned and tried to get her to go with us she looked at us as if we were trying to drag her off to a Turkish prison. When we would call to her she would hide behind my Mother or my Father staring at them beseechingly to protect her. We even tried to bribe her -- to no avail. She had landed in the promised land and there was no going back.

When we brought Sally home in October my sisters both immediately asked when she would be going to live with my parents. But I think we'll be holding on to this dog. And it's nice that I still get to see Coco and Stella and they have gotten to know Sally. They aren't sure they like her -- but they have stopped shunning her. And Sally seems to give them the deference they deserve. When we leave my parents after a visit all three seem to be happy in their places, and I am happy to have such great dogs in my life.

At least until my sofa is attacked again.