Heeeeeere, Greta!

I LOVE MUTTS! Greta is the mutt of all mutts. She's part Boxer, Chow, Border Collie, German Shepherd...and who knows what else.

She's perfectly useless. Definitely not the brightest bulb. Lazier than any dog has a right to be. And worth her weight in gold, I suppose.

Look at that foxy face. Look at that jaunty gait. Look at that flowy fur. Such a good puppy-yes you is! (I've lapsed into poochy voice.)

Did I mention she was the last pup left in a box of "Free Puppies!" a neighbor peddled outside the K-Mart store? I know, I know...that should have tipped me off. But I had puppy fever. I wanted a puppy so bad it hurt. I had a whole list of fabulous rationalizations that I pestered Clancy with daily: This new dog would be a savior to us all: guard the sheep, guard the house, guard the kids... People would come from miles around to marvel at this new dog's obedience...What a vision I had of my future puppy. Did I mention Greta was the last pup in the Free Puppies! box?!!!!! Impulse does not always serve me well.

Greta was the perfect puppy. Rather Chowish in her looks and behaviors. She potty trained really well, I must admit.

But I was used to herding types with their high energy and desire to please. Greta had no energy, and no desire to please. Very aloof. I eventually discovered that her only motivation in life was food. Not love, but food. For food she might move like a cheetah. At one point I had the vet examine her because I feared she was deaf. He was certain her hearing was fine and that she merely suffered from enormous inertia. Objects at rest tend to stay at rest unless acted upon by a force greater than... That would be me, physically shoving, pushing and dragging her in the directions I need her to go. I kid you not...if Greta is lying in front of the door and I need to open it, I use the door to slide her whole body across the slippery floor. Yes, I do ask her to move first. She opens one eye and gives me the look: "I'm very comfy just now, do what you must."

My favorite "Greta" is the time we switched the direction the exterior door opened. (During the building process we had a nasty old door on the house and it swung to the right. Then Clancy got the new door on and it swung to the left.) Morning came...time to let the dogs out...Sally the Shepherd Dog assessed the new situation in 2 seconds flat and slid the new direction through the door. Greta, who was following, mind you, came to a halt with her nose against the tiny crack of daylight on the hinge side of the door-the place where it used to be opened. And she stayed there!, sure that I would eventually open that crack wider...while Sally zipped in and out four times wondering why Greta wasn't following. I finally manually took her by the collar and led her through the doorway. Good dog. By the next morning she could do it herself. See what I mean about not the brightest bulb...

But what's not to love? Nothing is as cute as how Greta sleeps on her back with all four feet in the air. Never mind the high maintenance pelt that must be scissored off every spring no matter how much brushing is employed. Never mind that she barks as people leave. So helpful, thank you. Never mind the fact that she excavated deep pits under the deck for to nap in during the heat-even after heavy rains!!!!!! There's no such thing as a free dog, but life is all the richer for the love of Greta Grub.