I have this thing for sweet old dogs who pant constantly and walk a little crookedly. I love the white faces. It elicits the same mother-hen response as when I see little old men in hats who shuffle. I love the high pants. I really do. I want to tuck all of them in my pocket. Our 14 year old Chesapeake Bay Retriever is one of those dogs. She wasn't always. She used to have this wide, muscular chest and was a very powerful swimmer. She would ride in the motor boat with me when I was coaching rowing and stand in the bow. She was a very protective mascot who would bark at anyone on shore and scold the other boats who got too near HER team. She would even bark into my megaphone when I held it out for her!
Nan had been terribly abused before we got her. I can only guess how but I don't like to. She didn't make a noise for two years after we rescued her. She was happy being Henley's new pet, happy to be the follower. Being down at the boat house and on the water gave her a job and her confidence. I stopped coaching when Miss M arrived. And that worked just fine for Nan because she liked her new job even better. She watched the kids. I know that Newfies are notorious babysitters, but ours would rather lay outside away from the noise. Tanner, however, loves babies. When Big C was crawling but not really standing, I would come into the living room and find him on the couch. I could not figure out how he got up there, but Tanner would be standing next to him so he didn't fall. One day I figured it out, though. Tanner would be sleeping against the couch and Big C would climb her to climb up to the couch.
When the babies all went through the eyes, ears, nose phase where they simply cannot help themselves and are driven to manually explore every face they see, Tanner was a willing participant. She would lay there and let them tug on her ears and poke whatever they wanted to poke. Miss M especially liked to pull up her lips and check her teeth. She wouldn't move at all except for her tail, which wagged happily and which she also allowed them to tug.
After Henley was gone, Tanner was seriously depressed until our neighbors got a new puppy. The next listing on her resume became puppy trainer. She would play and run but not tolerate anything too unruly. She mothered that pup and several more. And when we eventually adopted Geneva (and the Olly), Tanner became the boss dog. She is totally the boss of the whole cul-du-sac and the 8 other dogs who live around us. One bark from Nan and those puppies would sit. She learned much in her life about those in charge. Some step on others to achieve power, some beat them down, and some will love you so completely that you want to follow them. She is definitely a Benevolent kind of Dictator.
Those eyes don't work very well anymore, and those ears don't hear much below a shout. Her joints ache and sometimes she will be standing or walking and just collapse. And she is getting a bit forgetful too. She does not seem to care anymore that she is not supposed to be in the kitchen. She will come up to me at bedtime and look at me like, "are you gonna share that pillow?" And, yes, she may have a cozy warm cushion to lay on but why not the furniture as well? I don't have it in me anymore to put on her fence collar because she walks through the line anyway. And I really don't care that she is getting a little sassy. It is hard to find fault with her now after a lifetime of being such an incredible friend.
But even this Mama has a limit to how much cute old dog behavior I will put up with. Yesterday she ate a whole pack of gum. First she dug it out of my bag. Out of the pocket in my bag. The pocket deep inside of a big bag. She also scored a yummy peppermint I was saving. Now, the girl is 14. And she smells like a 14 year old dog. I understand that maybe she just couldn't stand her own breath anymore. But, hey, smart dog: bring me your toothbrush and I will help you out, ok? What I cannot understand is why eat the tube of Smashbox O-gloss? WHY!?
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