~ A Ruff & Wooly Day ~
Sometimes, you just want to commiserate with a friend that knows you and knows your journey. Quick to lend a sympathetic ear. Although she doesn’t quite fit the bill, I just described Hazel. My pack sister is the closest to me in our family.
I’m the oldest on four legs here, and Hazel is the canine matriarch having arrived some time before my being found and adopted. Haze and I are the seniors, and our shared approach to advances in aging gives us a deep camaraderie, if not a full understanding or appreciation of each other’s quirks. Still, on occasion, we find comfort in each other’s company whether in silence or not.
Today, having missed my opportunity to get my morning hip massage from Dad (I just couldn’t rouse myself from sleep before he left), I found myself greeting the morning in a surly mood. I purposely tormented my pack by eating my breakfast slowly and intermittently to make them anticipate my walking away to leave them the spoils to divide up frantically.
It soon became obvious to me that I had unnecessarily wound up the tempo of the two younger members of the pack by teasing them with hopes of an extra helping of breakfast. They took the energy of their disappointment as a chance to wrestle loudly and recklessly in the living room. I took the opportunity to slink out the back door, pretending not to notice the ruckus behind me.
Mom, however, was working in her office and had noticed the rumble and thumping and came out to hustle Prudence and Keira outside so she could get back to work. On her way back inside, she asked me (as the honorary Sheriff of the pack) why hadn’t I intervened and hustled the girls outside myself. Even though Mom had asked in a light-hearted way, the question, however appropriate, soured my mood even more.
I considered my options: find Hazel and pull on her ear for a bit and see if it would raise my spirits, or stay put and wallow in self-pity.
Just as I decided to get up and pursue the former option, Keira raced past me with one of the wool dryer-balls in her jaws. Mom must be doing laundry. Not a good look for a deputy, which Keira supposedly is. I think of it as an honorary position, like an honorary doctorate, I guess.
It was actually Dad’s suggestion to swear Keira in, seeing as I was getting on in years, and Dad thought I could use the help. At the time, I had no idea that a doggo like Promise Prudence Pepper was coming into our lives.
Just as I sent the “All Hands on Deck” signal to my hips to get up, Pru came trotting towards me with a determined look across her face. I canceled my intent to rise… and sighed heavily.
Pru came to an abrupt stop at a respectful distance, sat, and glanced over at Keira—who was shredding her purloined prize on the other side of the pine tree. If left uninterrupted (i.e., caught) Keira can shred those tennis-ball sized items to nearly a square yard of fluff and mess.
When Pru’s gaze returned to mine, she recited a long, prepared speech requesting having me name and appoint her as an additional Deputy. All the while, her eyes darted back to Keira as if to add necessity and weight to her presentation.
Pru is quick, athletic and clever, but also impulsive and bossy. She is the youngest and most recent addition to the family. She also has a very sensitive heart, and I had to take that into consideration as she continued on about her supposed attributes and talents and reasons why she would be a great addition to the team.
When Pru finally stopped her speech and sat, waiting for an answer, I resorted to one of Dad’s favorite tools for these situations. “Let me think about it, Pru,” I said with all the tenderness and seriousness I could muster.
Sitting in front of me, she stared and waited.
“Run along now, Pru. I can’t think while you’re staring at me.”
Without a further word, she traipsed off around the corner of the house with optimism in her bouncing stride. I sighed again as I coaxed my hips to stand and stretch, giving a glance over at Keira who was still engaged in thinning out wool fibers to get maximum coverage.
Just as I going back into the house, Mom squeezed past me, asking if I had seen a missing dryer-ball. Before I could answer, she spied Keira and her swath of deconstruction efforts.
While Mom headed over to the carnage with a lawn rake to clean up while lecturing Keira, I continued on with my original plan to find my pack sister and relate the litany of all the things going wrong with my day.
Pru tried to follow.
“Not now Pru. I’m still thinking,” I managed to say softly, when I really felt like baring my teeth to run her off. If one more thing got on my last nerve, I was going to lose what was left of my composure.
I found Hazel lounging in Mom’s office. I plopped down beside her, relieved to be with my sympathetic companion and thinking of where I would start with my list of complaints. Before I could speak, Hazel began relating all the things that were bothering her.
I took a deep breath and fought being offended by reminding myself that on occasion she needed to vent, too.
“Thanks for listening Tuck, I appreciate your listening patiently. So what’s up with you today?”
I flipped through the Rolodex of my mind, and just blurted, “Pru wants to be a Deputy, and I don’t know how to answer her without hurting her feelings and causing strife in the pack.”
Hazel raised up, sensing the frustration in my voice. She thought for a minute and said, “Make her a Conservation Officer.”
I was intrigued. “What exactly is a Conservation Officer Haze?”
Hazel wasn’t sure exactly what all was involved, but said it had to do with protecting other animals and plants and trees and stuff, or so she thought. “Ask Dad when he gets home, he’s the one who told me about it once. I think he even has one of those old-timey badges you could use.”
I was beginning to feel light at the end of my tunnel. Without thinking, I leapt up impulsively to lick and kiss Hazel’s face.
“Don’t even think about it, Tuck!”
I apologized and trotted to the back door with sunshine replacing the dark clouds that had wrapped around my heart. Pru was waiting patiently for me at the back door.
“Meet me here first thing after breakfast tomorrow, and we’ll get you sworn in.”
Pru licked my face twice and ran to tell—or taunt—Keira.
With that done, there was one more thing to do to make things right. I walked over to Mom who was cleaning the tines of the lawn rake of wool fibers.
“Sorry I didn’t let you know about Keira and the dryer-ball, Mom.”
She set the rake down and bent to pat my head and rub behind my ears.
“No worries, Tuck. Sheriffs need to have a day off once in a while. It’s all good.” One more gentle pat and she went back to cleaning up.
Suddenly, everything was right with the world… and I am so grateful.
~ Tucker Oso ~
