George Carlin has said that “Life is a series of dogs.” My own life thus far has been touched by a Domino, a Scooter, a Pepsi, a Lucky, a Buster, a Suka, a Marley, and last but certainly not least, a Daisy. Each dog was certainly an individual, with unique quirks and talents ranging from disco dancing to possum wrangling.
I was originally going to write a very sad post about my first puppy—the first dog that truly belonged just to me, whose complete care was my sole responsibility. But it’s a depressing tale. Marley, the sweetest little furball of Cairn Terrier ever, died at twelve weeks of age from kidney failure.
So in lieu of a tear-jerking post, here’s a sweet photo of that little cutepea, who, despite being only two pounds, left an enormous pawprint on my heart.
I’ve discussed my current Cairn (Daisy…gee, isn’t that a clever name?) at length on my own blog: her tendency to bark at anything that isn’t nailed down, her hatred for certain theme music on public radio, the way she leaps as if spring-loaded, growling, in front of the television whenever an animal comes onscreen. She is a tennis ball Nazi, an all-around grump, a despiser of sneezes.
Daisy is an excellent alarm clock as well as an excellent weather station and calendar. For example, when the temperature drops below thirty degrees, she begins to use the throw rug in the back hall as her own personal toilet. (She’s not keen on being outdoors in the cold weather for too long.)
So who needs a calendar to know when to defrost the turkey and hang the lights on the tree when you have a magical defecating dog to tell you such things in a very special and personal way?
Daisy’s other hobbies include a desperate yearning to have her tummy scratched by any human being in the world, coating every surface in the house in a fine layer of blonde dog hair, stealing socks, tearing up fabric softener sheets, destuffing toys, and being a very adorable pain in the ass. Especially when she wakes me up at four in the morning with a series of teeny, tiny disgruntled “Hmmphfffs!” next to the bed. These “Hmmphffs!” are the signal for me to get out of bed to lift her highness up into bed with us. Or, sometimes she wants me to chase her around the room and play. Which is always fun, particularly when I have an important meeting at work mere hours from then and I’d only fallen asleep thirty minutes prior to her signal.
She is also an excellent writing buddy, sleeping beneath my computer chair whenever I clack away at the keys. Unfortunately, I need to alert her before I get up, as her shaggy hair has, on numerous occasions, gotten caught in the casters of my chair. Which always leads to a pleasant, low-decibal reaction.
She will only kiss boys, actually turning her head away disdainfully when I lean in for a kiss on the nose. (Cesar Milan would say she’s asserting her dominance over me.) You always love the ones that play hard to get, so of course I dote on her. She’s a clever little monster. She’s trained me well. I’m a bit worried about her reaction should we expand our family to include a non-furry two-legged little creature, but I’m hoping that should such an event occur, she will welcome the noise-making New Human Food Distribution Device with open paws.
In the meantime, Daisy will remain our only child: the spoiled, well-loved Fur Kid with the sh*t-eating grin. And oh, how I wish that were only a figure of speech.
11 Replies to “Not All the Furry Monsters Are on Sesame Street by Deb Jess”
We had a Daisy too 😉 . And the sh*t-eating grin…My Sassy (the Lab) sits by my side all day as I’m at my computer, randomly licking me. The problem is after she got used to 12 cups a day of gourmet home-cooked chicken, ground beef and vegetables when she was nursing her puppies, she couldn’t quite get used to going back to two meager scoops of kibble, so took to grazing all day on fox poop, deer poop, rabbit poop, all of which are in abundance in my back yard. So her breath is foul enough to corrode metal…Needless to say, I abhor her licks now 😉 .
My crazy dingo dog, Bridget is a weather forecaster. Only for her, when the barometer drops (many hours before the weather actually turns) she becomes a total freak, either running away or hiding in closets. She’s busted down the gate in the mudroom to flee oncoming bad weather. Medicating her doesn’t seem to help. She pants and her paws sweat and she trembles–it’s so sad!
What a cutie, Jess!
My pooch is a great writing dog too. And recently, at the mature age of three and a half, he has become a lap dog–for the first few years we were dying to get him to cuddle with us but he wanted nothing to do with any of that. Suddenly in the last few months he’s become a VERY determined lap–sitter. And don’t jostle him, either, or you will receive serious grumbles and verbal reprimands.
Daisy sounds lovely, even with all the quirks. Dogs are such people, complete with their own mannerisms and personalities, aren’t they? My Kia is also a weather forecaster, but being that she’s part husky, when the thermometer hits zero (c – I’m Canadian) she starts to ramp up, hoping for tons of snow in the yard she can roll in and eat. Her favourite game is find the ball in the snow bank.
Jenny: when I read your post I actually said, “Awww!” …. poor Bridget! Daisy gets angry at storms, barking so much she actually spins in circles. (The Fourth of July is a real treat each year!)
Danielle, that is so funny! It’s amusing how dogs change over the years. Almost like they get bored with certain behaviors!
Joanne, I bet Kia is just gorgeous! We got some snow last night (about two inches), and I can’t wait to take Daisy out to play in it a bit.:)
Jess, yes, she is gorgeous (sorry, I can’t help myself).
Oh, look at those eyes!!!! Thank you for sharing that, Joanne! 🙂
I say this with no pride at all. We built a tiny staircase (including a carpet covering) so that our two small dogs could get into the bed un aided. Oh the shame.
I have a Westie and Scottie so with your Cairn we would have the full set.
Sometimes I miss having a dog…
Eileen, I LOVE that you actually built a staircase! I’ve seen them in the stores. I’m always tempted to buy one. ALWAYS.
Andrea: perhaps someday? I’d always be willing to drop mine off for a visit! 🙂
Here’s what I wonder–did you base Larry Resnick — SORRY, couldn’t resist — Driving Sideways — on Marley’s kidney failure?!?!?!
MM: no, I didn’t (I had the idea before she died).
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