A Thanks To Dogs (Patricia Potter)

Saturday – blog day – crept up on me this week.

There’s something about holiday weeks that throw off established schedules, and so I woke up, realized I was delinquent and frantically searched my mind for a topic. Then one of my dogs jumped on my chest, licked my face and I knew immediately what to address this day.

I've read the other blogs this week about Thanksgiving and all we have to be grateful for. I too have much to be thankful for. Warm house. Career. Family. Friends. More food than I should have.

And I’m truly thankful for the animals that share my life now and have so enriched it in the past.

I’ve always loved animals. Anything with four legs and a tail, but, truth be told, I also admire geese, chickens, parrots and, well, you get the idea.

Nearly every book I’ve written includes a critter of some description. Mostly dogs, but then there has been ferrets, a rascally monkey, a mouse named Abner, several cats, a pig, a chicken named Herietta and most recently an African Grey Parrot (Catch A Shadpw – March release).

But mostly my heroines/heroes have dogs. I can’t imagine, or believe in, a heroine and hero who does not dote on animals.

Dogs are epidemic in my family, at least the current generation. We gathered at Thanksgiving and discovered that among six family units,we have seventeen dogs. There’s not a family without one, and one – my niece and her husband – have five (all rescues). Another niece has three. I have three. Two nephews have two each.

So holidays sometimes bring confusion since occasionally a family canine cannot remain home for one reason or another. I hosted one such visitor Thanksgiving night,, a disaster since she decided she did NOT like one of my Aussies, so she was passed on to another family the next day.

Well, there are always a few tensions among family members . . .

My elderly Shih Tzu frequently attends family occasions, but then she’s the perfect guest. She walks in, ignores all the other canines, stakes out a spot and sleeps the entire time until it’s time to go. She's always welcomed because of her somnolent ways. But despite the fact she’s nearly unconscious during the visit, she loves to go. The mere thought of getting in the car makes her giddy with delight.

The other two – the Aussie sisters – are not quite ready for prime time visits. They are much too enthusiastic upon seeing new people. They want to love everyone to death which is fine, except some people – even dog people – draw the line at being licked on the face. Repeatedly.

As I write now, the three are all within reach. Three dog beds occupied by three sprawled out bodies. They’re ready to spring to life the moment I stand. They’ll follow me down stairs when I finish, happy just to be at my side. And they fill my heart with their uncomplicated and unquestioning love. I love them dearly.

Ting Ting, the Shih Tzu, and Katy and Allie, the Australian Shepherds – follow a long line of the best dogs ever. In fact, I’ve never had a dog that wasn’t the best dog ever. They are each so very special in their own way. They have their own way of worming themselves into a heart and life.

All three are rescue dogs. So are most of the other fourteen in the family. Most of the dogs I’ve owned – and who have owned me –have been rescues. And so this Thanksgiving, I give thanks for them, and to all the people who devote much of their lives to rescuing unwanted dogs and making them into the wonderful companions and friends that share – and enrich – our lives.