Dogs weasel their way into family comforts

| Saturday, April 19, 2003

Previous Page

Share

• del.icio.us
• Digg
• NewsVine
• Fark

Print

Email

My family has always had dogs. Little dogs, big dogs and in-between dogs. Before I was born, my parents had a St. Bernard dog named Admiral. One of my happiest days as a child was when my brother, Raymond, brought me a purebred Great Dane from Colorado named Queenie Belle of Laramie. I kept Queenie Belle for a few weeks, until we had to send her to brother Orion's farm because she ate like a threshing crew.

Most of our dogs have been fairly small, though. My wife, who likes dogs, too, and I have had several dogs since our marriage more than 50 years ago. Our newest is one we have now, named Ben. Ben lives in the house and is spoiled. I would like to contrast Ben's life with that of typical dogs we had when I was a youngster.

The dogs of my childhood lived good lives, but they were not spoiled. These dogs did not live inside the house. If they were lucky, they found a place in the garage or the coal shed. We never paid for any of our dogs. They were given to us by friends or neighbors. Some of them just sort of appeared and were taken into the family.

Dogs of that era lived mainly on table scraps. I'm sure some of them caught an occasional rabbit or chicken to supplement their diets. My dad was a veterinarian, so he took care of any shots or medicines that might be needed. I can remember the time when Iowa put in a law that mandated licensing for dogs. In those days, a dog license cost a dollar, and I was very worried that my father would consider that an extravagance and that I wouldn't be able to keep Sam. (Dad paid for the license, and I got to keep him.)

We occasionally have to leave Ben, our current dog, in the kennel for a few days. This costs me almost as much per day as I used to pay for a motel for our family when we traveled. Ben grows hair almost as fast as ... well, we should have named him Hairy. He gets a haircut not quite as often as I. The trouble is, his cost three times as much as mine.

Does Ben eat table scraps? No, he is too finicky for table scraps. I have finally found a brand of commercial dog food that he tolerates. To save money, I buy 40-pound bags of the stuff.

We have made the concession of letting Ben live in the house. This is on the condition that he stays on the floor and off the beds, sofa and overstuffed chairs. So where does Ben spend most of his time? On the beds, sofa and overstuffed chairs, of course.

Ben is a rather delicate dog, probably from being spoiled, and he has been to the veterinarian several times. I would rather not say how much this has cost me. But hey, having a dog isn't about kennel fees, clean sofas or expensive dog food. Having a dog is about ... well, settling down on the sofa for an afternoon nap and having your dog jump up and lie at your feet.

And, oh yes, please notice that throughout this essay, I have said that I have had several dogs. I have never owned a dog, and neither will you or anyone else.

Walter Higbee is a retired college educator living in Spearfish. Write him at the Rapid City Journal, Box 450, Rapid City, SD 57709.