For the Love of Dogs

Back in the depths of time, a couple weeks into the initial pandemic lockdown, I read a Washington Post article that cautioned against spending too much time with your dog(s) or other pet(s) during this time. The reasoning was something about the pets being subject to feelings of abandonment and PTSD once we all went back to normal.

Hogwash.

First of all, ‘normal’: what is it, and when do we expect to be back there? Secondly, pets-and especially dogs-are such boon companions precisely because they adore being with us. In the darkest days of this very dark year, my cheerful tail waggers were a constant and reassuring presence (even if they did get tired of our 2 hour hikes). Dogs are in the same category as Champagne: the more, the merrier.

Consequently, we’ve always welcomed dogs at Pour Richard’s; in a choice between selling chips and candy or allowing customers to bring their dogs, I will 100% always pick the dogs. Over the years, we’ve been able to fawn over, pet, and feed treats to countless beautiful dogs. Gigi, the famous bulldog. Mr Biggs, the camera-shy but treat-loving puggle. Tucker, now departed but always remembered for his sweet, goofy soul. And Bailey, a sassy, fun-loving Cairn.

Bailey was adorable, and he knew it. He’d sit right under the treat jar, looking at you as if to say, ‘We both know why I’m here-hurry, up, already!’ He’d roam around the store while his person-Doris-shopped, poking his nose into nooks and crannies. More than once, he found my furry reindeer antlers and shook them vigorously before dropping them at my feet. “There-I killed it for you!’ He did not love but did tolerate being picked up. And he loved posing for photos; Bailey really ought to have been a dog model.

Time marches on for everyone, but it marches more quickly for our canine companions. Bailey has been very sick, and yesterday Doris had to take him for that sad, last vet visit. She stopped by the store on the way to let me say goodbye-one last pat, one last scratch behind the ears. I’m honored and grateful for that, but my heart breaks for Doris, whose home must feel very quiet today. The loss of a good dog leaves a dog-shaped hole in your heart.

With Christmas week approaching, may we all try to help each other fill in the holes that this year has wrought. Mourn what we’ve lost, treasure what we have, and hope for a better 2021.

To Bailey: Forever a Good Boy.