Four

This will be a brief one, for a variety of mundane, exhausted-mommy-related reasons, not the least of which is that it’s 17 degrees outside (windchill of 4, thank you very much), and my warm bed and snuggly dog are calling my name.

Actually, it’s the dog I want to talk about, about a second shared with him today that tugged at my heartstrings a bit. I’m sure that, following my exciting life the way you must be compelled to do, you read about the cat guest we had in our home yesterday. It appears that my slightly neurotic, keenly anxious dog, Fergus, may have fallen in love. And now that she’s found her right place in the world again, he’s sad.

This morning, upon picking up the kitty at the vet and before her owner picked her up, we made a little kitty suite out of our upstairs bathroom. This bathroom gets few visitors, because it’s on the third floor, tucked around a corner. It’s big and bright and a nice warm spot for a temporarily homeless kitty. We made the mistake of letting Fergus accompany her up to her new digs (which she occupied all of 45 minutes). Because Fergus is the most intelligent canine on the planet (ask anyone), he remembered that’s where she was . . . all day.

I first discovered his lonesome pining when I got home from work and couldn’t find my sweet boy. Odd that he wasn’t greeting me at the door with gallops and spins. So I called him. Did not come running. Also odd. Went upstairs. Nothing. Finally, I heard the quiet jingle of his collar coming from the 3rd-floor landing where Fergus had planted himself, outside the closed door, waiting for his lost love. My older daughter found him up there earlier this evening, and my husband did just now. 

Poor Fergus. His lady love has disappeared. 

Just that second, finding him waiting outside a closed door, reminded me of a fact that once seemed silly to me: Dogs feel love. Perhaps in this case, it was simply intrigue (a mysterious lady all in black swooping in with all sorts of fancy smells and sounds is bound to wrap a boy’s brain in knots). But there’ve been a thousand times over the past six years when I’ve looked into his goopy little eyes and known that he loves me. Loves all of his humans. 

This amazes me. Dog lovers may be shrugging their shoulders, having known this for years, but it’s all new to me, because I’ve never loved a dog before. At the best, I tolerated them, and at the worst, their saliva created a wide assortment of hives all over me. The smell, the shedding, the licking . . . just never had an appeal. Until we invested our time, money, and hearts into welcoming our little hypoallergenic hero into our lives.

Fergus is so much a part of our family that none of us remember what it was like without him. His capacity to give and receive affection can save the crappiest day. What would we do without his crooked smile, nasty breath, and wet kisses? As all dog owners know, there’s nothing like coming home to a dog; be it a five-hour trip or a five-minute walk, the joy that awaits your return makes you feel like the most loved person on earth. 

Unless you’re a cat. Then you’ll have to settle for just knowing that a little lover is on the other side of a door down the street, pining away. Kitty, you don’t know what you’re missing.