The other day I was stretched out on the couch in front of the wood stove looking at the cobwebs (it’s worse when the sun is shining) when it sounded like a herd of elephants coming into the room. It was just dogs Sally and Charlie who live here; two granddogs, Winnie and Chelsie; and the neighbor’s dog, Grady. I tell these dogs often how lucky they are to live here: They don’t need to be on a lead because we live in a rural area. They can come and go as they please because we have a doggie door. There is always a pool of water on the big rock near the back door in case their water bowl is empty. And they can go for a swim in the little stock pond down near the barn.
The neighbors that walk by frequently with their dogs know us all and we know their dogs too. There is always a pocket of dog biscuits nearby. Dixie, who some of you remember, wandered the neighborhood frequently. She had a beautiful smile and loved people. She would often go to the neighbor’s house for a swim, then go inside for a rest before hiking up the hill home. The hunters that we would see once a year always asked for her, and they would often share their lunch with her.
Sally #1 was a hound so she would make the rounds on the property every day but you knew where she was because of her barking. On occasion, when another neighbor’s dog would come to visit, she would sometimes stay for an overnight. We would call the neighbors to let them know she was here.
Then there was Phoebe, who loved balls. There were balls everywhere and no one came without throwing a few balls for her. When it would get slimy, she would rinse it off in the pool of water on the big rock and then start all over. Phoebe was the reason we put in a doggie door. We were both working, and even though the dogs, Phoebe and Phyllis, had beds on the porch, on occasion there would be a thunderstorm and Phoebe would jump at the screen door to get inside. The doggie door solved that problem.
A few years ago some new people moved in down the road. We hadn’t met them yet. One morning I came into the kitchen and there was a beagle sleeping on the couch. I had no idea who she was or where she came from. I stuffed her in the car and went around to neighbors’ houses, but no one knew where she belonged. I finally stopped at the house with the new people in it and, sure enough, she was one of their dogs. She came on occasion to visit but always went home on her own.
Charlie, who is here now, loves sticks, small and large. With the windstorm we had a few weeks ago, there are sticks everywhere, and she is loving it. I’d like to think she will help me pick them up in the spring, but I have my doubts. And Sally #2 is like my shadow, never leaving my side. I think of myself as her security blanket, and if that is what she needs, so be it. All rescue dogs they are, and what lucky dogs they are too.
