Dog Exists.

Once you have one, they become ubiquitous. Recently I hopped on a plane to the twin cities. My brother had a mysterious serious health issue. While there I got reacquainted with Ceasar, their old family pet. His life was simple, yet stately. Food, lifting a leg etcetera, and sleep were the triune affectations of the emperor of the house.

Then I met Luna, my nephew’s rover. Over dinner, at my sister’s house, Luna was queen. Her grandparents (My sister and her husband) were over the moon with this dog. She was as quiet as outer space. Luna was the epitome of the dark side of the moon, being jet black and all. She was a mid-sized wagging Lunar Module. That’s enough word play.

Then I learned the sad news of the passing of Tantor, the wanna-be pachyderm. My niece’s chihuahua of great renown is in dog heaven now, in alpha mode I presume.

Then there’s my other brother with his Pomeranian mix, Zoey. She absolutely runs the show, besides running and running like Forrest Gump. When Barbara and I have dinner with my brother and his wife, the conversation is dominated by this character canine.

Some of our children own dogs too, or the dogs own them. On Christmas day one of our daughters gave Barbara a Chorky, A Chihuahua Yorkie mix. Cheerio is as small as a bowl of cheerios. We’ve had dogs before, but not a lap dog, and he is lapping up affection from anyone who makes his acquaintance. Archie, our other canine tenant, is mostly happy to have a comrade, but often Cheerio acts like the annoying little brother.

I am more aware of dogs lately. As a retired UPS driver, I met many furry, sometimes ferocious, paw-patrollers. On the flight back, I counted 12 dogs at different airports. I used to growl at that, but now I’m tempted to invoke my bilingual gift of dog-speak. I’d bark out questions like “Where are you headed?” and “Did you find a spot to do your business?”

I say again, dog exists.