I don't like to think about it, but my Sally is getting old. She's at least 11 years old, maybe more. We don't know exactly because she was a stray my aunt Lori rescued from alongside a road.
Greta is funny. Meg is outgoing. But Sally is the best dog we have ever had. She reads our minds. She's completely loyal. She worries about us worse than a mother hen. She always seeks to please. She also has lovely manners. Our staircase has a turn in it. Sal claimed the landing as her own when we first moved into our house. She peers down at our family life from her vantage point until something interests her enough to bring her clicking down the stairs. Greta and Meg do not disturb her favorite place. The boys love the idea that she is watching out for them if they come down in the night for a drink of water. Thankfully, Sally is still very spry. She is always game for a walk or a tussle with Meg. The other dogs do not cross her authority. She takes her job of guarding the farm very seriously. Though she favors guarding the landing more and more. She likes her tie-dyed bean bag there. But who would blame an 11 year old dog for that. Yesterday, while I was helping Clancy side the house, I noticed a chipmunk brazenly eating from the chicken feeder out in the yard. Greta was lounging on the porch and we tried to send her after it. She took note of the little varmint. She pricked her ears when it bounded away via the nearby dog kennel. She returned to her lounging. So much for that. About an hour later we noticed the chipmunk was back at the feeder. This time Sally was lounging on the porch. I pointed out the rodent to her and she was off like a bullet. The chipmunk dove for the safety of a pile of lumber. But Sal's snout was only a hair's breadth behind it and she jerked the little beast out from it's hole. In one fluid motion she flipped it into the air, snapped it's backbone in one bite and brought it to my feet. Amazing. She must still feel pretty good if she can move that quickly. I wish she would always be with us. Sally is the dog that taught me how much I love dogs. I can't even pretend that she didn't train me. Each dog that has been a part of my life has been dear to me. But I know Sally is the first dog to teach me that I am dear to her. She is special in ways I cannot describe. I can't teach another dog to be like her. Her presence is simply a gift from God-and from my aunt Lori who trusted me with her.
Greta is funny. Meg is outgoing. But Sally is the best dog we have ever had. She reads our minds. She's completely loyal. She worries about us worse than a mother hen. She always seeks to please. She also has lovely manners. Our staircase has a turn in it. Sal claimed the landing as her own when we first moved into our house. She peers down at our family life from her vantage point until something interests her enough to bring her clicking down the stairs. Greta and Meg do not disturb her favorite place. The boys love the idea that she is watching out for them if they come down in the night for a drink of water. Thankfully, Sally is still very spry. She is always game for a walk or a tussle with Meg. The other dogs do not cross her authority. She takes her job of guarding the farm very seriously. Though she favors guarding the landing more and more. She likes her tie-dyed bean bag there. But who would blame an 11 year old dog for that. Yesterday, while I was helping Clancy side the house, I noticed a chipmunk brazenly eating from the chicken feeder out in the yard. Greta was lounging on the porch and we tried to send her after it. She took note of the little varmint. She pricked her ears when it bounded away via the nearby dog kennel. She returned to her lounging. So much for that. About an hour later we noticed the chipmunk was back at the feeder. This time Sally was lounging on the porch. I pointed out the rodent to her and she was off like a bullet. The chipmunk dove for the safety of a pile of lumber. But Sal's snout was only a hair's breadth behind it and she jerked the little beast out from it's hole. In one fluid motion she flipped it into the air, snapped it's backbone in one bite and brought it to my feet. Amazing. She must still feel pretty good if she can move that quickly. I wish she would always be with us. Sally is the dog that taught me how much I love dogs. I can't even pretend that she didn't train me. Each dog that has been a part of my life has been dear to me. But I know Sally is the first dog to teach me that I am dear to her. She is special in ways I cannot describe. I can't teach another dog to be like her. Her presence is simply a gift from God-and from my aunt Lori who trusted me with her.
2 comments:
Hmm, if we all pitched in do you think we could afford to have her cloned -- multiple times so we could each have a Sally?
If I thought it would work, I would clone her in a heartbeat. :) But my oldest sons are identical twins (spontaneous clones) and they are anything but "identical" in their personalities.
Sally came into our lives in a special way-some day I'll tell the story. But from day one she was the perfect dog. She trained us.
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