A Little Background

"Petting, scratching and cuddling a dog could be as soothing to the mind and heart 

as deep meditation, and almost as good for the soul as prayer."

Dean Koontz

John was born with the soul of an ancient herdsman. He’s never met a winged, scaled or furred creature he didn’t need to bring home. He has whispered to horses, dogs, cats, gerbils and iguanas alike. By his own account  some of John's pets have included Rags the Turtle, Lovie the Iguana, Kong the Scorpion, Steve the Ray and Barry the Barracuda. when John was about 8 years old, he fed shivering, featherless, hatchlings with little chance of survival with an eye dropper round the clock. Even though his efforts proved futile (he buried the chicks in the same cloth-lined shoebox he kept beside his pillow) it was good training for Fred, aka the meanest parakeet in America (of which I have no memory.)

John was a toddler when I fell in love with a basket of Scottish Terrier puppies at a church bazaar. Never one to pass up a free offer or a soft, squiggly ball of fluff, I took one home, thinking, of course, the pup would grow into a beauty of a dog like her mother.  Pebbles quickly became a permanent member of our family.  As she grew, however, she began to resemble something closer to a groundhog than the stately Scotties I remembered my grandparents owning. Short and squat with a dull black bristly coat what Pebbles lacked in breeding, she made up for in heart.

What the hell is that? asked my husband when he came home from sea. He had not been consulted about this scruffy surprise. If he’d been home, he’d have voted for a big dog, a man’s dog. A German Shepherd, or a retriever. Something he could call Duke, who would come when called, sit when commanded, and fetch. Pebbles did none of these things, but even Jim grew to love her.  

In essence John and Pebbles grew up together.  When the rest of the family found it hard to get close to her, John always made room for her on his bed. In the days before flea collars, Trifexis and allergy medications, Pebbles regularly chewed all the hair off her backside. Shampooing her with tar based soap failed to stop the itching and added to her off-putting bouquet. But oh how we loved that dog. In fifteen years we had her, Pebbles never failed to keep up. She criss-crossed the country with us every time we moved from duty station to duty station. She he went on long jogs, combed the canyons, chased rabbits only asking for love in return. 

We had other dogs along the way. Dogs that didn’t quite work out. Dogs that jumped over 6 foot fences or refused to be tamed. When our family broke up, cats moved up to the top rung of the pet ladder.  But John never stopped yearning for a dog to call his own.