A Friend To Lean On

I've had dogs all my life: The ever loyal and brilliant Joe, a shepherd mix that walked us to and from school every day; Chipper, a terrier mix and Joe's hyper-companion; Blue, the blue-eyed momma shepherd, guarding home and hearth ~~ Then later, there was Pete, the quiet, loving Cocker Spaniel, Lucy a not-so-bright Shih Tzu Princess, and EthelMae, a tiny 5-lb toy poodle rescued from the dark streets of Burbank.

Despite their markedly different personalities, they had one thing in common: their exuberant display of happiness. Maybe I'd just come through the door after being gone for say, 37 minutes. Or I wondered out loud if I'd need a sweater to go outside. Sometimes the mere mention of food would do it. Perhaps I'd been gone a long time, and when I got home was treated like the prodigal son. You know the dog has done nothing but worry, and now that you're back all those worries are unleashed in a fit of delirium. And when his exertions are finally concluded, he'll just sit there and look at you in utter relief. Don't assume the dog is embarrassed by these out-bursts, that he might be thinking 'Look at what a fool I'm making of myself! or even 'Aren't I too old to act like this?' It doesn't cross his mind. A friend once remarked to me that she'd like to train her dog to stay put when she came through the door. Why would anyone want to train their dog to do that? It would be like training a flower not to bloom. TalkerCat