That Dog

They say it’s a dog”s life. Well, in Gordie’s case, I can understand why.

In our house, the real truth is that Gordie stands out in his master’s eyes (Bernadette’s) as most loved. In fact, just under the list of most loved items in our house (after children, grand children, coffee maker) is Gordie.

Me, on the other hand… I am likely found a little ways lower on the master’s list, somewhere just below: our vacuum cleaner, snow shovel or new rake. (Actually, I doubt I am as popular as our new rake.)

So, it is no surprise to me that in the early going of our epic tour, Gordie has emerged as the clear choice of best in show. It is sickening.

Wherever I walk with Gordie, which is a lot of places because it seems like his life’s ambition is to endlessly leave his mark on every post, every blade of grass, every RV tire (sorry neighbours). And after all of that action, Gordie is still tracked down by crazed people. “Oh My goodness. That dog?” is usually the first thing I hear.

Then I have to stand there listening to yet another stranger tell me about how cute he is. And yes, he does look like that dog from the commercial. He’s a Westie for crying out loud! They all look the same!

The places where I dread most are the entrances to grocery stores along our route.  That is where Bernadette leaves me and takes complete charge of all shopping decisions. Gordie and I just stand outside while she does does the important work. My job is to make sure I don’t lose him. My other job is to make sure I have an ample supply of pooh bags.

Do you know how many people walk into those stores? And each one of them stops to say the same thing. “That Dog! He is so cute. Can I pet him?” And, of course, Gordie obliges and they keep telling me how cute he is. It is sickening.

The other day a lovely, elderly lady came up to Gordie and I in North Platte, Nebraska. She was leaning heavily on her shopping cart, but stopped to say,  “That dog is the most beautiful dog I have ever seen.” And, of course, Gordie did what he always does, lowered his eyes and slowly moved towards the elderly lady to allow a pet.

And that did it.  Instead of a couple of moments of hearing about,  “That dog,” this lady stood petting Gordie and chatting for more than 15 minutes. She wouldn’t leave. I was stuck and Bernadette was no where in sight as she was likely running around searching for cucumbers. (She is always buying cucumbers.)

I heard a lot from that elderly lady. She had a dog at home that apparently would bite my arm off. (Glad she left that puppy at home.) And she had a cat.

Now, we all know the world is mostly made up of cat lovers and dog lovers. I am kind of on the fence. But this lady made no bones about how much she loved her cat.

Apparently, years before on a freezing December morning,  a co-worker spotted a tiny kitten shrivelled up in a field beside the parking lot. It was presumed gone. So, when this lady heard about the frozen kitten, she quickly put her coat on and ventured out into that frigid Nebraskan morning and found it.  She carefully wrapped the tiny critter in her scarf and carried it back to where she worked. While believing the tiny kitty was gone, a miracle happened. After just a few minutes of being warmed in her scarf, the tiny bundle unfroze and started to purr.

So, the elderly lady adopted that kitten on the spot and for the last decade or more, it has been part of her family, along with her dog that rips off arms of strangers.

I asked her what the cat’s name was. Of course, hearing the circumstances of the kitten’s discovery, I assumed the obvious, like: “Frosty, Lucky, Frozen, Ice Cube….” I was wrong. She called him, “Lil’ Man” on account of the fact that it was such a little kitten when she rescued it from the cold. When you think of it, that’s a pretty cool name too.

For Gordie and I, this elderly lady was the nicest among dozens of nice people we met that day. As she  finally shuffled off, Gordie looked at me with those eyes of his saying, “That kitty sure is one lucky cat.”

I couldn’t agree more. And for me, another reminder that deep down, I am always glad that Gordie is, “That dog”.