I’m Here to Tell You Different

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There is accepted scientific fact, and there is truth. Sometimes they’re not the same thing.

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Salad Days

I watched a canine documentary a couple of years ago that centered around behavior.  The Host started right in on a dog’s limitations, of which there seemed to be many. For instance, one of the first listed was the leash/obstacle problem.

The Host posited as truth the old chestnut that a dog can’t comprehend that they must stay on the same side of an obstacle as their owner; that they are connected by the leash. ‘They just cannot think laterally’, he said.  ‘They can’t work it out’. That’s when I turned the show off.

Well, Bree worked out for herself as a puppy that we were connected and after two times going the wrong way around a light pole and never did it again.

Last night while watching Stephen Fry’s series QI I heard him say that dogs cannot follow where you point. They watch your finger, not the direction in which you are pointing.

Once again, Bree got pointing right away. I can point at stuff anywhere and she’ll go get it. Stuffed babies, usually. She loves it and regards it as work, which is the highest calling for a herding breed.

She also knows how to ‘take it’, ‘come’, ‘go’, ‘hug’, etc… and saved my life once when the electric blanket I was using caught fire.

Got kids? Get Collies. There will be an excess of hair, but your children will have a best friend you can count on… one who won’t introduce them to meth.

Conversely, Badger, also a herder, does not always get it. Maybe her original people didn’t spend much time with her when she was a puppy.

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She’s old now, the Bree. Her face becomes progressively whiter and she moves slower. But she’s still the best girl.

Ten

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My funny little girl is ten today. I can’t believe it.

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Little Bree with her Aunt Deb.

Playing with Dad…

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16 weeks…

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She played very carefully with kitties…

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And used to go into the spare room to look at herself for company when her sister died.

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And August of this year. A little the worse for wear, but still my lovely girl.

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Happy Birthday you silly, hardheaded bitch. You’re not going anywhere soon.

I had to get a photo of her today, though it’s not like she was going to look at me! This was right after her bath.

My Punkinhead:

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Breagha is Nine

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My darling girl turns 9 today.

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She doesn’t look like this photo anymore. Gone is the sleek hair. The sleek, toned body as well. It’s been replaced with too much white, skin tags and fatty cysts the doc doesn’t want to excise.

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Yet this old dog is more precious to me than her younger self could ever have been. She’s still herself, translating for the little dogs and bossing everyone around. We have the love, understanding and yes, even comfort, that comes with spending years together, just as my husband and I do. Nothing can replace that, absolutely nothing.

Happy Birthday, my sweet girl. May we have many more years together.

Now, a puppy picture. Or two.

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