My Dog Is So Disrespectful… But It’s All Good

Angel, my pomeranian

Updated: 3/3/2020 4:35pm.

Yes Lord, my dog is so disrespectful, but it’s all good!

No seriously, Angel sashayed into my life back in 2014 and she’s been on self-appointed K9 patrol ever since!
Let me tell you about this little thing here…

As I said, her name is Angel.

My cousin, Shawndra, who gave her to my Dad after my mother passed away, named her–or maybe it was her daughter Mikayla–I’m not sure.

Either way, it was love at first sight for my daughter, Lady J–Protector of The Animal Kingdom!

For me…

Well, it was kinda-sorta love at first sight, but I was a little hesitant because I knew that while Lady J might be Protector of The Animal Kingdom, she is by no means Feeder and Walker of Dog at 5:30am.

That was going to be me!

As for Angel, she didn’t give a hoot, as long as she had a nice place to lay, good food, fresh water and a daily walk.

Now, to the point of this post.

So, we’ve already established that I am Feeder and Walker of Dog at 5:30am-sometimes 4:00am, but I forgot to mention that I am also Do-er of Every-damn-thang else.

Do you think that matters to Angel?

Absolutely not, in fact, she happily goes about her life–disrespecting me, everybody and everything that crosses her path.

Shall I count the ways?

  1. She stands on all of my notebooks–bending and tearing up the pages.
  2. She conducts daily shouting matches, lectures and debates with the neighbor’s dog.
  3. She gets on my lap, places her butt in my face and proceeds to “chill for a minute ’til the next episode.”
  4. She dares Lady J to “cross THIS line” everyday around lunch time.
  5. She chastises the squirrels, birds and the rest of the woodland creatures for living their best lives.
  6. She nudges the bathroom door open in the middle of the night to see what I’m doing–no matter what I’m doing.

I could go on–but, in the interest of time, I won’t.

She is just so disrespectful…but it’s all good!

To be honest, all of this only endears her to me.

Why?

Because this same little disrespectful hobgoblin is the first to notice when I feel sad or otherwise off-kilter.

It’s been said that dogs and horses have a “sixth sense” for these things.

Anyway, it still amazes me how she climbs up into my lap, becomes uncharacteristically solemn and begins to live up to her name–Angel–a heavenly being holding a hallowed space for my spirit to rise up!

Ah, but when she feels that I’m all better, she jumps down off my lap, goes to the patio door and continues an ongoing tirade against the birds for singing in the trees.

My dog is so disrespectful…but it’s all good because I love her–no matter what.

Angel at the window patrolling the woodland creatures

Angel, standing on my notebook

To the Dogs

dog-1441396_1280

 

I’ve always loved animals-especially dogs 🙂

It’s a trait that I share with my Dad.

I think he got it from his Dad.

As a kid, I can remember Daddy bringing home sick, hurt or stray dogs.  He’d take them out back and I’d watch and assist as he nursed them through to recovery.

Believe me, we cared for all kinds of dogs; everything from German Shepherds to Doberman Pinschers to Cocker Spaniels to Beagles and every breed in between.

Neither of us could bear the idea of an injured, sick or lonely animal being left to fend for itself.

Even in later years, I can remember running in the house yelling something like, “Daddy, you gotta go get that cat down the street-some dogs are after him!”

Or

“Daddy, you gotta get that bird that just ran into the window, he landed in a pile of ants and he can’t move.”

Yessir!  The animal protectors!  Daddy and me!

And…Lady J !

I am so happy to say that the ‘animal protection trait’ was passed on to my dear Lady J.

Ever since J was a tot, she’s been looking after the animals.

In fact, she aspires to be a vet.

She can tell you just about anything you wanna know about any animal; all of which she learned from her highly specialized collection of books on the subject.

It’s not unusual for her to regale me with an interesting- random- animal fact.

Things like, and I quote, “Mom, did you know that sea turtles can’t retract their heads back into their shells like regular turtles?”

Of course, I’ll be like, “No, baby, Mama never really thought about that.”

Good times!

So here’s the latest on our dear little animal fairy…

Lady J, who started “The Dog Club” at her school, decided to organize a bake sale in order to raise money to, in her words, “help take care of the dogs who are waiting to be adopted.”

You’ve seen these dogs at places like PetSmart, right?  They’re usually outside or in the back of the store.

Lady J loves visiting those dogs.

And, to her delight, about a year or so ago, a friend of mine who volunteers for a dog adoption organization, allowed Lady J to ‘babysit’ a set of puppies.

That little sister was in hog heaven!

Anyway, back to the bake sale.

You will be pleased to know that Lady J and the other members of “The Dog Club” proudly raised a whopping $8.50.

Note:  The bake sale was only for students in her class of 20.  Cookies were priced at $.25 each.

Tack said she should have upped the price!

Oh well! I am sure that every little bit helps 🙂

By the way, Lady J and her Godmother will take the money to PetSmart today after her knitting class 😉

YAAASSS!

And Lady G will chill out here with you 🙂

But seriously, I have to say how proud I am of Lady J for continuing a family legacy and for establishing her own way of being a “Protector of the Animals.”

You go girl!

lady-j-and-friend
Lady J (R) and friend selling cookies.

money-raised
$8.50 for the dogs! Hooray!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Blackie

dog-1143736_1920
“Blackie” the dog

 

Ok, let me hang on to my integrity by admitting that I never learned the dog’s real name.

That said, he will forever be known to me as “Blackie.”

Anyway, many long years ago, when I was about six or seven, Mama would take me to my bus-stop every morning to catch the bus for school.  Honestly, the stop was very close to where I lived—but it was at the top of a rather steep hill.  Mama thought it would be better if she drove me to the stop in the mornings; that way I could start my school day looking nice, fresh and clean.

She said, “I’ll take you in the mornings so you won’t have to go to school all sweaty– looking like a field hand.”

And with that, a deal was made, Mama would drive me to the bus-stop in the mornings but I would walk back home each afternoon.

Well, the first couple of days, my walk from the bus-stop was rather enjoyable; I liked the independence of it all.  Besides, I didn’t have far to go and it was completely downhill.  This was going to be a breeze! No problems!

The deal between me and Mama worked out fine!

Until it didn’t.

Enter “problems!”

One day, as I was making my usual trek home, I came upon a little black dog who started barking at me from a yard across the street.  Naturally, this startled me since I had never seen him before.  At any rate, although I was startled, I was not afraid because I had been raised in a home with all kinds of dogs. In fact, my Dad rescued and trained hunting dogs. That said, a barking dog was a non-issue to me.

By the way, you can read more about me, daddy and our dogs here.

Anyway, as I was saying, I wasn’t scared, but I was on guard so I did my best to quietly walk past the dog’s ‘dominion.’

When I got home, I didn’t mention this to Mama, because, after all, apart from all the loud barking, the dog had kept his distance.

Until he didn’t.

The next day, after I got off the bus and commenced to walk home, I noticed that same little black dog in his yard barking like he was one of my Doberman Pinschers.  Again, I was startled but not too concerned so I just looked straight ahead–kept my stride and walked past.

Friends, the next thing I knew, that little joker had crossed over to my side of the street and had begun biting at my heels!

And we were off!

Me and the dog–both ‘flying’ down that hill like two bats out of hell!

Y’all I was in a race for my life!  In fact, I was sprinting so fast that I could barely stop myself!

You may recall that I was coming down a steep hill.  A steep hill that, by the way, ran perpendicular to a busy thoroughfare.

Had I kept running, I might have crossed directly into the path of several cars.

Good thing I was able to stop and catch myself!

Needless to say, by the time I stopped, I was totally breathless and scared out of my wits!

When I looked down, I noticed that the little black dog (whom I later named “Blackie”) had already turned around and was making his way back home.

Enter Mama!

After somewhat gaining my composure, I walked the last few yards home.  Mama was standing there as I entered the house through the kitchen.

Having noticed how disheveled and discombobulated I was, she asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

I said, between wheezes, “A dog chased me home!”

Mama asked, “What dog? Where?”

I said, “Up Wycliffe Street.”

Mama said, “Come on let’s go!”

And with that, me, Tack and Mama jumped in the car!

Mama drove up Wycliffe and said, “Show me the house!”

I pointed to “Blackie’s” house.

Mama pulled up into Blackie’s yard, parked and said, “Y’all wait right here!”

Folks, Mama got out of the car, strutted up to the front door and started knocking like she was the Chief of POLICE!

Within a minute or so, a man came to the door and said, “Can I help you ma’am?”

Mama spotted Blackie standing behind the man and said, “Your dog chased my daughter home.  She almost ran into traffic! Now look, she gon’ have to walk down this hill everyday after school so you gon’ have to keep that dog in the house!”

The man said, “Ma’am I’m so sorry about that.  I’ll make sure he stays inside when your little daughter comes by.”

Mama thanked the man, bid him a fond farewell, got back in the car and drove us home.

The next day when I passed “Blackie’s” house I noticed that he was not in the yard barking but he was peering at me through his front window.

I imagined him saying, “You so lucky I ain’t outside!”

LOL!

All jokes aside, Mama was bold!  You have to remember, this all took place in Georgia in the early 1970’s and “Blackie’s” owner was an older White man.  At that time, most places in the South were newly integrated so Mama, who was only about 29,  was gambling with her life when she decided to approach that man about his dog.

But, as they say, don’t mess with a Mama bear’s cubs!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Doggy as The Teacher

Angel 2

I have loved dogs for as long as I can remember.  In fact, one of my earliest memories was of my dad asking me to name our newest pooch.  I was only 3 years old and my vocabulary was considerably small so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind and that was “Sheppy!”  You might be wondering where I got that name.  My best guess is that it was a childish corruption of the word ‘Shepherd.’  Clearly, I must have overheard my parents mention that our new dog was a German Shepherd.  ‘Sheppy’ was the closest approximation to ‘Shepherd’ that I could muster.

Believe it or not, Sheppy was one of my first and greatest teachers.  Unfortunately, I can’t say that I was always the best student.  But that never seemed to matter to Sheppy; he simply kept repeating the lessons. Now you might be wondering how a dog could act as an instructor.  Well let me answer that!  Sheppy used a teaching technique called ‘modeling.’  In essence, Sheppy modeled the traits that I, and most of you, will spend a lifetime trying to acquire.  Let’s get specific!  Sheppy modeled unconditional love, acceptance, loyalty, affection and fierce protectiveness.  Frankly, I don’t have enough space to write about all of the traits that Sheppy modeled; dog owners will know what I mean.  Regardless, Sheppy was determined to lead by example.  Alas, after years of repeatedly attempting to teach me these important traits, my dear Master Sheppy Flowers ultimately shuffled off this mortal coil.  For those of you who dislike Shakespearean references, Sheppy died.  Needless to say, I was sad for quite a while.

But, as you might have guessed, Sheppy wasn’t the last dog in my life.  In fact, he was the first of at least fifteen.  And, as a result, I learned that every dog is essentially a teacher who is trying to convey the traits that I mentioned above.  With that said, I would eventually take lessons from other “teachers” like Champ, Lil Gal, Princess and Frisky.  One of my more memorable teachers was Bones.  My dad brought Bones, who was very ill, to our home with the intention of caring for him until he died.  In essence, dad was providing doggy hospice.  Dad and I loved, fed and nurtured Bones until he peacefully passed away.  From this experience, I learned that all sentient beings deserve to be cared for and loved; even unto death. Although it was tough letting Bones go, I took solace in knowing that his last weeks were filled with affection, love and comfort.  Aha! I had begun to catch on! Lesson learned.

At any rate, I am happy to announce that my current teacher is Angel.  She is the Pomeranian pictured above.  I can assure you that age has taught me to pay closer attention to the lessons this time around 🙂

What have your pets taught you?

german-shepherd-1045288_1920

In memory of my dogs (I included their breeds for those interested in knowing):

Champ–German Shepherd

Sheppy–German Shepherd

Bones, Princess and Demon–Doberman Pinschers

Lil’ Gal and Frisky–Beagles

Prince–Cocker Spaniel

RA–Rottweiler

And all the other dogs that Daddy cared for over the years.