Showsight - May 2022

MORNING with MY DOGS

T he shadow that sits astride the trees on the eastern ridge changes from pink to gold. Old dog nudges my hand as I watch the darkness retreat. My mind is free, not yet cluttered with pressures of the day ahead. I smile, knowing today she will be ready. The vet said she was ovulating three days ago. He was wrong. My stud dog is never wrong. My thought leaps to the conclusion that I could save mon- ey and frustration by listening to my stud dog instead of the new veterinarian. Why am I suddenly at odds with the decision to breed this bitch? Is it because I shrink from the responsibility of a new litter? Is it the long obligation to strangers? Maybe this isn’t sudden, just suddenly acknowledged? The pink turns into gold, the sky awash in molten treasure. I smile in gratitude, but my mind is still stuck on worry. So, what is it? Too many years doing the same thing? Am I like so many of my friends, just weary of it all? Do I really need this litter? Am I willing to be house-bound again for weeks? The golden sky becomes translucent and quickly transforms into that famous Carolina Blue. I shrug, somehow less impressed. What is wrong with me? Slowly, more stealthily than the day itself, reality confronts me. Should I keep a puppy at my age? Common sense says, “No,” but not to be dissuaded. This keeps murmuring in my mind. Then why do the breeding? I don’t need the money. In my thoughts, the new vet laughs. Yeah, maybe I do, no pet insurance. Not funny. The silent clarity of a new day is ruined by the clatter of my thoughts. I am torn between “doing dogs” for sixty years and wondering why I do it at all. Pushing it away, I head for the kitchen. Coffee will help. I’ll not go back to the east window. Not now. I’ll just go let the dogs out early. An unexpected treat for my little friends. Cup in hand, I go out to the patio where six surprised faces emerge through the flaps. They never bark or disturb me until it’s time to go out. Then, the slippery sound of the patio door is like a fire alarm to firefighters! They burst through the dog doors, joy in their hearts. “It’s morning, we can bark!” they shriek in chorus. But this early morning, they are unsure, confused, all except the stud dog, already a pogo stick, bouncing up high so that he can catch sight of his lady-love. The others stretch, displac- ing their confusion, wondering what happened to their trusty internal clock.

BY BARBARA (BJ) ANDREWS

THE SILENT CLARITY OF A NEW DAY IS RUINED BY THE CLATTER OF MY THOUGHTS. I AM TORN BETWEEN

‘DOING DOGS’ FOR SIXTY YEARS AND WONDERING WHY I DO IT AT ALL.

148 | SHOWSIGHT MAGAZINE, MAY 2022

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