Girl dog.

You know, in amongst all the garbage I'm doing today and all the other stuff I have to keep up with, my mind keeps wandering back to one particular subject.

Monday, I stopped off at the school to pick up the kids (who aren't in school this week, but are out for spring break, but who still have to go to the school gym for daycare anyway because their parents are trying to save up their vacation time for summer) and as I parked the van I noticed there was a dog beside the building, calmly lying between two shrubs.

White and black piebald, short of hair, long of tail, medium-sized, lean almost to the point of being neglected, collarless, with a most elegant head. Long, intelligent, with alert, pointed ears. It stood up as I brought the van to a halt, tilting its head at the odd sound the brakes made. I turned off the engine and walked around, and saw that "it" was a "she," and she stood there beside the van, looking at me as if she had already made my acquaintance. I didn't try to pet her, but made the soft kissing sound you make to dogs. She just looked at me.

Went in and got the kids rounded up, and Jonathan was first out and into the van. I had left the door open, and the dog decided to see what all she could smell in there. Probably a lot. She quietly stepped over to the door sill and poked her head in, then walked back to the side of the building.

Cat and Rebecca came on out and the dog loped on off down the sidewalk, where she was surrounded by another group of kids and their dad, who were quite agitated about the DOG!!! The dad said he thought the dog was a stray, and was probably part husky. Husky!? Whatever--some people are just real smart, and it's best not to tell them anything. Got in the van and saw the other kids in the rear-view mirror crowded around the dog, who was now down in the passive, ears back, tail tucked, head-and-forelegs down pose that says someone had not been good to her. Poor girl.

Of course, this started the conversation in our van, "Dad, when can we get a fence?!" For you see, we can't very well have a dog until we have a fence. So first things first. We've been through this with them before, but they all want a dog so bad they could bust. But, say Mom and Dad, it's REALLY expensive to put up a fence. And who would take care of a dog? Mom and Dad. Who seem to have their plates full of human children.

"If we had a fence, we could get a Spitz and call her Wendy!" said Catherine. Wendy was my dog, and she was a Spitz. Lived to be about 14 or so, and never died. I know she did, but I never saw her. The little bratty kid who lived next door to us when we lived in Irondale let her out of the yard, and she ran away, never to be seen again. But we have pictures, and video, and to Catherine, that's almost as good as a real dog. Almost.

I dropped the kids off yesterday morning, and for some reason really hoped to see that dog. Sure enough, she came trotting around the fence from over by where the cafeteria is, and quietly padded up the sidewalk to see what was going on. She stood back and watched the kids go inside, looked over at me, and loped on around the driveway.

Yesterday afternoon, I figured I would go pick up the kids--I hadn't heard from Reba if she had left Shelby County on time, and if she doesn't call, it usually means she's late, and there's no use leaving the kids over there any longer than necessary. I pulled up to the curb again and went in, not seeing the dog anywhere. Oh well. I peeked in the door of the gym and saw that the kids had already been gotten by Mom, so I turned around to go get in the van. Walked around the back, and there she was. Just looking around. "Hey, girl." She cocked her head a bit, and looked over her shoulder at something, then back. I asked her if she was a stray or if she had anybody to feed her, and she blinked and sniffed the air. I clicked my tongue and bent down to see if she would let me pet her. No. Too much. Head down, ears back, tail tucked firmly, sidled off. I told her 'bye and got in the van and headed home.

She was the topic of much dinner conversation--Catherine noting that she did not bite the other children, and Rebecca complaining that all the other kids pester Miss Tanya to feed her scraps, and Jonathan saying that one mean boy keeps trying to get one of the little kids mess with it, and that it probably belongs to someone, or not, and how if we had a fence, we could have a dog, and it could be a Spitz, and its name could be Wendy. Or Kelli. Or Keekee. If we had a fence.

I have waited in vain for the past five years hoping that our side neighbors and rear neighbor would put up a fence so we would be spared having to foot the bill for the whole thing. I don't know how much longer I can wait.
posted by Terry at 3:52:00 PM