I love dogs. It’s no secret. They have a magnetic attraction for me. Last week I made a zucchini delivery in the nearby city of Alamosa. I would be seeing a friend — Cynthia Stone — whom I hadn’t seen in a while. She has gotten married in the interval. She’s an artist and I would be seeing her studio and her new counseling practice. This is all worthy of my interest and attention but the whole thing was compromised because…
…she had her dog with her, a young border collie, Baloo, and HE got all of my attention, at least until he and I had made friends, shared stories and knew each other. Then I turned my attention to my human friend. I think she understood; she has three dogs of her own.
I have always been like this. I have no idea why. I like animals in general and dogs in particular and have a VERY special place in my heart for horses. It tends to be mutual. Dogs I don’t even know have been known to bound across the room to meet me. This happened with a friend’s new puppy — a little pug — who, when I came into the living room of their new house LEAPT 10 feet, basically she FLEW into my arms. Not just dogs. For a period of time in the late 80s, several cats moved in with me and my ex. How or why or where they all came from remains a mystery for the most part, though some were dumped on us by my international students who’d adopted a cat and then had to return to their home countries.
I’ve taken aptitude tests that say I should be an animal trainer. I don’t know. I think I should probably be an animal, but there’s no result like, “You would be happy as a forest ranger, educator, artist, writer or coyote.” Given that list I would definitely choose coyote.
(The featured photo is Satchmo and Shoe — two of my friend L’s dogs — and Polar Bear Yeti T. Dog of song and story)