Dog Days

Who Owns Who?

Do you own a dog? Or rather, does a dog own you?

Our 9 lb. Norfolk Terrier has, after 9 years living with us, given up the subterfuge that we own her.

We’re still struggling to decipher the difference between her letting us know that she needs to go out, and simply demanding that we get off our devices, stop talking to each other, and give her the attention she knows she deserves.

She’s the 4th Norfolk I’ve lived with in the 40+ years Lacey and I have been together (Lacey’s family had these dogs – or was had by them – when they were known as Jones Terriers), and she is by far the liveliest, most demanding of all of them.

Our children think it’s funny that, in our dotage, Zinnia requires such attention and energy from us. Maybe they think it takes some of the attention we might otherwise focus on them and their uber busy lives.

But would you be able to turn aside from her?

What better use of your energy?

We’re about to leave for our annual winter stay in southern California, where we walk along the ocean each morning with friends who also have small dogs. The surfers we see have taken to calling them the La Jolla Low Riders. Zinnia loves the walk, for all the company, and for the countless people we meet who give her biscuits.

When she came to us I hoped she might outlive me. I thought I couldn’t bear losing another of these beloved companions. It’s still possible, but if you read the human and dog actuarial tables, it’s not a good bet.

I mean to be grateful for every unearned day added to my span. I am equally grateful for every day Zinnia remains in my life.