Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Birthday Girl

When I returned home from the Breakfast Club it was with a piece of real bacon sent by Val from the Birthday Girl! Today is Goddess Elliott’s birthday! When I opened the front door she lay on the landing waiting on me as she does every morning. Recognizing that something was different she jumped up staring at the napkin in my hand, her tail started wagging. I gave her the gift and off she went to enjoy it on her bed.

She is five-years-old. This means that she is 35 in dog years so middle age is fast approaching though I am not certain that she has mellowed much during this time. She still stalks rabbits, chases squirrels, barks at any other dog who dares to walk in front of our house or, if she loves you, backs her butt up to you so that you can scratch it.

Recently she has learned to open the bathroom and she is not inhibited by anything if she loves you and wants to give you the pleasure of scratching her butt!

For five years during college I worked at a Veterinary Clinic (yes I crammed four years of college into five!) and at 7:30 every morning had to clean the cages of the dogs and cats who were recovering from surgery or being boarded. Doing that alters the ways that you perceive domesticated animals.

So when Julie bopped in one day saying that she wanted a dog … well I’m sure you can imagine what leapt into my mind. I think my response was a tender and loving “HELL NO!”

Then Julie showed me the photograph on the web page of the dog rescue organization and those eyes just grabbed me. A few days later she moved in.

I did claim the right to name the dog so when Julie asked me what it was going to be I replied, with a tremendous sense of pride and satisfaction, “God.”

“You are not naming our dog!” she immediately shot back.

“I don’t know why not,” I calmly and rationally replied. “Dog spelled backwards is God. She is a bitch and that sends a great theological message that God can be a woman. I fail to see the downside.”

“Oh I’ll tell you the downside,” she passionately answered, “I know you! You’ll be on the back deck calling her ‘God! GOD! GOD!!!! Dammit come in right now!”

I offered no response.

The next day it was explained to me that she would be called Goddess. And it is a much more fitting name. I’ll be walking her and people will smile and comment what a beautiful dog she is then they’ll ask me her name.

“Goddess,” I say.

“Of course it is,” they nod.

Not to say that she is perfect by any stretch of the imagination. She was sentenced to six months probation by Judge Henry Sheer at Tybee Court for disturbing the peace. It could have been a $1000 fine and I was horrified. But the Judge and a neighbor evidently are not huge fans of dogs barking (thinking of you Leigh Eoff-Marsh) but Goddess got off with the six month’s probation and a pounding of the gavel.

I wish that I would have the presence of mind to ask the Judge “Is that in dog years?”

Aside from her brush with the law and learning how to enter bathrooms whenever she decides she wants, she has been damn near perfect! We spend a great deal of time talking to one another; consoling each other; playing together, and while I brush her every day she refuses to respond in-kind.

As I write this her paw is on my foot and she is staring at me with her golden brown eyes. We’ve already argued and I hope that she’s trying to make up. She wants to know why I’m writing when I should be taking her on a walk. This is her walk time.

I explained that it is 23 degrees outside but she doesn’t seem to care. So I’m done. It is her birthday after all. And if she wants a friggin’ walk in the cold then she gets it.

Goddess.

Dammit.

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