Dogs

As a preschooler we had a boxer chained in the backyard named Lady. For me she was scary. Later we got a miniature schnauzer, but my dad didn't like having a dog in the house having been raised with hunting dogs, so that dog had to live at my granny's. When my dad left later, I wanted the dog back. He was a mean dog to all but family, and they put him to sleep and told us he died.

At 18 my brother found a beagle mutt puppy at the restaurant where he worked and brought her home. For the first time I had my own dog. She chewed up everything, so I named her Trouble. Shortly after that I moved in with my dad. I had to travel one weekend and left Dad and Trouble alone together, and that created a bond. He was now sold on house dogs and had several more over the years. He loved her even though she chewed on his high school diploma.

Trouble came with me when I got married. Roger too was skeptical, until he also found himself one on one with her for a weekend while I was gone. After that she had him wrapped too.

Trouble had a great temperament. With other dogs she never started a fight but would defend herself. With people she would protect me at all costs but if I accepted someone she was friendly. In the first house Roger and I lived in I could not see out the door when someone knocked. If Trouble stood wagging her tail, I knew a friend stood on the other side. If she barked, I needed to go to the window to see.

I didn't know how Trouble wouldd respond when Nora was born, but she adopted her as another charge. When Junia was born we put her out in the living room in a cradle. Our friend John came by to see her, and bent over the cradle. Trouble saw John weekly at our home for Bible study. When he bent over, Trouble stood on her hind legs between him and the cradle and barked. Later that day my dad came, who lived hours away and only occasionally visited, and Trouble didn't make any move when dad picked up his granddaughter. She understood.

Trouble lived to 18. The day after she died, my son Luke wanted to give her his leftover milk from his cereal. We took it out and poured it over the porch where we buried her. She had been unconditional love all my adult life to that point.

After that we adopted an older dog from friends moving into a retirement home. We only had him a couple of years and he got into everything, so I never got attached.

Next we took the family to the pound to pick a pet. They chose another beagle mutt we named Regal, about 10 months old. She was cuddly and fun and the kids adored her. She died at only four years old, somehow paralyzed, and some of the kids never gave their heart to a dog after that.

Christmas of 2000 we adopted a two year old shepherd mutt named Sunny from a man who was getting married and his new wife didn't want the dog as part of the package. I'm glad my spouse didn't feel that way about Trouble.

Sunny was sweet and energetic and had no manners as her former owner allowed her to jump on him then he'd pick her up. We took her to visit my mom in Jackson and she climbed the 6-foot privacy fence. But she never ran away, just waited for us to return.

That next February I lost my mom unexpectedly and Sunny sensed my grief. She hung close and comforted me and has been "my" dog ever since. She has loved chasing tennis balls with Luke on our concrete backyard, and would keep going until she ran her paws raw and couldn't walk the next day. She would go on runs with Wesley even though she wore out before he did and he'd have to drag her home.

She hasn't gotten along with other dogs, but like Trouble she's been great with people. She tolerates children, including those who knocked on our door this week and asked if she could come out and play. She's convinced children who were afraid of dogs to like her and give other dogs a chance.

She's smart too. Once she got in the van that I had loaded up to take Nora to college. I looked out the kitchen window and told her to get out and get in the house, and she did. She sleeps next to my bed and waits patiently for morning. I can get up and go to the bathroom and she stays curled on her mat. But when an alarm goes off, she's up. She lays next to me at my computer and when the email program says, "good-bye," she stands up figuring we're going downstairs.

Sunny has lived a good long life, even getting to go on vacation with us to Lake Walloon a couple of years ago. Sadly she has reached a point of needing permanent rest. As any pet owner knows, it's hard to say good-bye. Thanks, Sunny, for again providing me with unconditional love with fur on.