Owning a Pet

         When I saw Dixie it was love at first sight. Getting a dog was not a decision I made lightly. My husband’s mantra had long been, “When the kids are grown and the pets are dead…” The kids were grown and our cat of nearly 19 years had been gone for a couple of years when I began to get the itch for another pet. I started trolling the Humane Society and no-kill animal shelter websites. I knew I wanted a medium size dog, not a puppy, and one already housetrained. When I saw Dixie’s photo I made arrangements to visit her at her foster home. “I’m just going to look,” I told my husband.

            I parked in the drive of the big farm house and watched as a black and white mostly Border Collie wearing a red bandana on her neck descended the front porch steps like a debutante. She paused at the bottom and lifted her paw to shake hands with me. That was it. Dixie got her forever home that day and I learned what it meant to lose your heart to an animal. I also learned what it meant to be a responsible pet owner.

            Some people might say my dogs are spoiled. Chloe, our second black and white mostly Border Collie, joined our family a few years after Dixie. They live in the house. They have soft beds and a big fenced yard to romp in. I buy them the best dog food and give them treats when they do something good like wag their tail or look at me with their big brown eyes. They are micro-chipped, have all their jewelry (tags), and see the vet regularly for required shots and check-ups. I give them heartworm, flea and tick prevention every month. They see the groomer for baths regularly and are brushed and ‘furminated’ almost daily. When I go out of town my husband comes home from work to give them their outdoor potty breaks and when we are both travelling they have a wonderful place to board.

            In return I get total devotion and unconditional love. I’m the hands-down winner in this arrangement.

            This morning as we were finishing our walk I spied two dogs on the loose at the end of the block. I promptly turned around to avoid them, but before I could escape one was on us. A pit bull mix. I’m not breed-bashing here, that’s just what it was. I screamed forcefully, “NO,” as I tried to pull my dogs away from the attacking animal. I had a combined one-hundred pounds of protection at the end of my leashes and I’m certain they would have died before they let the dog get to me.

            I am thankful for the kindness of strangers. A man in a red pickup truck stopped and ran the dogs off. My dogs and I made fast for home. I mouthed thank you and waved as the man drove away. What might have happened had he not appeared out of nowhere?

            My dogs were not hurt. I was not hurt, physically. The attack occurred hours ago and I have not stopped shaking. I can’t speak of it without crying. 

            Animal Control was notified and responded promptly. The dogs have not been found. Are they still out there or did they find their way back home? I’m afraid to leave my house.

            I don’t blame the dogs. I feel sorry for them. If they are picked up (and I hope they are, because they are obviously dangerous) they will probably be put down at the city animal shelter. Is that a harsher alternative to living with an irresponsible owner? I’m not sure.

            In a perfect world all pets would be loved and cared for. In a perfect world I wouldn’t be afraid to leave my house because of someone’s irresponsibility.

            I’m sure I’ll get over it in a few days. I’m going to buy pepper spray to protect myself and my dogs should anything like this ever happen again. But what about the dogs no one is protecting? What is to become of them? How sad.

The Reunion

When I was a child I idolized my mother’s nine brothers and sisters; I still do. Some of my earliest memories are of being put to bed at my grandmother’s house while the adults stayed up late, sitting around the oak kitchen table, drinking highballs, smoking cigarettes, telling tales, and laughing. As I got older I listened to their stories, memorized them, and this became my family lore.

The aunts and uncles held sway for many years. They continued to add to the lore. Many moved away. All had their own families. Yet they still congregated around my grandmother’s kitchen table whenever they could. Weddings, funerals, and illnesses all brought them home. I was fortunate to live in the same town as my grandmother from the time I was a junior in college until her death nearly thirty-five years later. This meant I was always around for the family gatherings and reunions, something I took for granted until I didn’t have it anymore.

It was three years since my grandmother was laid to rest, our last family reunion until we did it again last week. Many months in the planning we convened in Austin, Texas and made new memories and new stories. The aunts and uncles range in age from sixty to eighty. They still hold sway. My generation, or rather my first cousins, (I hesitate to call us a generation as we range in age from 21 to 60) and I have our own families now and are spread even farther across the country. But like our parents, we have always made family a priority and gather whenever we can.

There are thirty-four first cousins. I know them all. We have kept the bond that was created many years ago at that kitchen table. My grandmother was fond of quoting Tennyson and one of her favorite quotes was, “Our echoes roll from soul to soul, and grow for ever and for ever.” It was amazing to see the rolling echoes at the reunion.

There are fifty-two second cousins. My daughters know them all. They also know the lore, the stories that connect us and make us who we are. My two year old granddaughter was at this reunion. She is in the next tier of cousins, I think they are called third cousins, but at this point who really cares – we are all just cousins. There are just eight in this group, so far. She doesn’t know them all yet, but she will. And the stories, she will know them too. I will teach her. And one day, when I am gone, she will make sure our echoes continue to roll from soul to soul, and grow for ever and for ever. That’s what we do.