Puppyhood Revisited

Button, our miniature female Poodle/Pomeranian was a scant two years old when our grandchild Angelyne was born. We had doted on our little dog and wondered how she would react to the newness of another being upon whose cherished presence we would now concentrate. Not to worry - after a few tentative sniffs Button accepted the mewling baby girl in a way she would not four years later when we introduced Riley as a puppy.

During Angelyne's first four years of infancy Button was there, sharing our experiences with a little person-in-becoming in our home, for we provided day care for our grandchild during the course of the working week. Somehow we managed never to overlook Button and her needs. She remained as she had been, a treasured companion in our home, complementing our love for one another.

Angelyne is no longer in our care. She lives elsewhere, an hour's drive from here, and our times together are infinitely less frequent, but the memory is still there of our time together in her early formative years when our attention was fully focussed on her needs and well-being. In those early years it became a daily ritual to walk down to any one of several easily-accessed neighbourhood parks.

One in particular was a favourite; not the one at the foot of the street we lived on, but the one at the foot of a street one over from ours. It was better equipped with children's playground installations, differently oriented, and there we would always find other children approximating Angelyne's age and with whom she could play, learning socialization.

Button too was socialized there, in a different but equally notable way. We would always bring along Button's favourite toy, a fluffy tennis ball to be thrown repeatedly for her, so she could retrieve it and trot back with it to us for yet another throw. She was a big hit with the many children who gathered to play there and they would vie for the opportunity to throw her ball for her.

Overnight Thursday we experienced heavy, all-night rain. Our ravine walk was an exercise in avoidance. Attempting to avoid the glassy-smooth and treacherous ice on the paths, and equally trying to avoid the congealed mess absent ice of the remainder of the paths where the top layer of frost on the ground had given way to clayey muck. Friday night gave us additional rain, non-stop.

Same thing on Saturday morning, so our usual morning ravine walk was clearly not on option. Instead, in a lull, when it was only sprinkling, we took Button and Riley to one of our old haunts, that very same park in which Button had spent so much time years ago. True, the newly-revealed turf was incredibly sodden, but there were also paved pathways we could use and there was the opportunity for Button and Riley to have a bit of a run-about.

Not Riley, he paddled along steadily beside us. For Button it was different; the memory of her long-past adventures in this park slowly settled over her and she began to canter, then to run and romp and generally behave in a manner we haven't seen for years. Under our disbelieving eyes she shed years and became a frolicking puppy once more. She scampered and skipped far ahead of us, legs flying, ears flapping.

From time to time she would fleet back toward us, then run off again, coursing through the park, circling play structures, rippling through the sodden sand patches. Without rest she would take off time and again in wide swaths across the park. We watched as she ran through the large sandy areas, made her way under the play structures in the sand pit, dug furiously into the sand as she used to do to reveal a cool moist depth that she would install herself in to cool off on hot summer days.

She spread herself happily into the cavity she had dug, she squiggled into it a bit further, then flung herself back out again in an excess of happiness. And then she sat, strangely erect, under a pine tree. She raised herself on all fours, then promptly sat herself back down again. She appeared perturbed, puzzled; she licked her lips. Raised herself, sat back down, awkwardly. Her years had caught up with her, to inform her that she was no longer a puppy.

My husband picked her up, cradled her in his arms, spoke gently to her, and we walked on, Riley still at our heels. Soon he placed Button back on the ground, and she walked alongside us, while Riley happily welcomed her back to ground level.