Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Rita

Unconditional love from our dogs

by Julie Carter

Out here in the country everyone’s got a good horse or snake story. But better than those, they always have great stories about an old dog in their life.

Favorite dogs we remember aren’t limited to rural living but it is often in the rural setting you find canines in greater numbers. Acres of living space allows for an assorted collection of the critters to accumulate before anyone actually takes a count.

At one time, my family had five of those absolutely worthless and some not so bright hounds. They loved, fed and nurtured them all. As well they should.

Bridgett, a Saint Bernard, was quite the “nanny” of the bunch, but did look a little out of place on a desert dry ranch in New Mexico. Her most unpopular day was when she broke through the door into the house to steal the roast off the counter that had been set out to thaw.

Poppy and Puppy were the watch dog/guard dog committee. They would bark you in the door then Puppy would leave to his guard post and Poppy would stand and “smile” at you. She had a muzzle and teeth that looked like she was perpetually smiling.

Tiny was just that on a “compared to” basis. He was some sort of terrier dog with big bug eyes. There was nothing special about Tiny except he was there. He had joined the herd of mutts that had been dropped off or deserted only to find their way to a middle-of-nowhere ranch.

And then there was Rupert. Rupert was a small red long-haired mutt that until his dying day thought it was his job to bark and bite even when he was deaf, blind and had no teeth. He’d lie under the kitchen table and when an unsuspecting guest would move their feet the wrong direction he’d make an attempt to “gum” their foot off.

There were more dogs after that; Jessie, Mike, and Murphy among others. The point is we all have memories of a special dog, be it mutt or purebred. 

We cuss them, love them, and call them names. And we miss them more than we can explain when they are gone and our hearts ache with their loss. They are doormats, babysitters, guardians and companions. Often completely worthless pain in the rear buddies, they mark a place in our hearts that lasts forever. Their unconditional love for us is returned and never forgotten.

We identify a dog with his owner and vice versa. When we lose a loved one, their dog is a cherished link to them in the days ahead. Then when we lose the dog, it’s like losing the person all over again.

Dying of old age is the ultimate we can wish for our pets. Sadly it happens too soon. Rural living brings with it other dangers for them that can shorten their life span including snake bite and predators. It’s hard to tell a dog with a tendency to hunt to not be sniffing around the bushes because he might find a diamond back rattler.

I’ve lost some pretty special dogs over the years and the loss was so painful. And always, I swore I’d not get another one to avoid that grief. Then somewhere along the way a roly-poly blue heeler puppy would catch my eye and I’d cave to the cuteness.

And the cycle would begin again.

Julie can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com. And no, don’t send me your puppies, blue heeler or otherwise. My son already did that.