It’s Good to Have A Dog

It’s Good to Have A Dog

Because we can’t get delivery here in Montana, I get the Sunday New York Times a week late. It usually comes on Thursday or Friday and I save it so I have a Times to read on Sunday morning. This is what two years of one’s youth spent in Manhattan will get you — a lifetime addiction to a big fat Sunday paper.

So Sunday I was reading the Style section and there, in the Weddings, was my cousin George on his father’s vintage motorcycle with Jen, who is now his wife. It’s a really cute picture and I tossed it aside thinking “Patrick will love this.” It was a good ten minutes before I realized what I’d done. That Patrick wasn’t going to be coming by later that day, and so I had a little crying fit because I’m really quite sad right now about the whole thing.

So I’m on the couch crying and Owen, my puppy, my perfect, 35-pound French Brittany spaniel jumped up next to me and started licking my head. Licking my hands over my eyes, licking my ears, licking my head like he knows somehow that this is his job in the universe, as though his whole reason for being on the planet this time around is to save me from my sorrow. Which he did, because it’s really hard to keep crying when you have a frantic year-old dog licking your head, your hands, whatever parts of you he can get his tongue on. He licked at me until I started to giggle through my tears, and remembered that although I am sad, I am also still here, still kicking, and still loved by among others, my fabulous little dog. (So now I guess I’m going to have to learn to hunt birds for the little guy.)

2 thoughts on “It’s Good to Have A Dog

  1. Your dog is a great spirit. . . so glad you have him. Jim Harrison has some wonderful things to say about bird hunting with his beloved dogs — maybe that would inspire you?

  2. Jim Harrison is actually a neighbor of mine here — his son in law is my lawyer for all this estate stuff. And when I was joking with Steve that the birds would be safe with me out there, he said no, he holds the title of Worst Wing Shot in the World. Which is quite something when you consider that he hunts with his one-eyed father-in-law. Next year I would like to take a crack at it though — at the worst it means a nice day spent walking around looking for birds and watching the dogs work.

Comments are closed.

Comments are closed.
%d bloggers like this: