Oct. 23, 2001 - 19:39 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Four Legs

Peggy was in my life from my earliest memory. A pleasant, uncomplaining and abetting, companion to my activities. A being who only wanted to be watered, fed and loved. She was a sturdy small wire haired fox terrier. Rather short coupled in appearance because her tail had been docked to the max when she was a puppy. That was well before she came to live with us I was told. But, oh man, could she ever wag that non-existant tail as well as putting her whole backfield in motion. Somehow she had a physical radar and no matter how early or late Dad would come home Peggy would get excited and begin dancing around the door about five minutes before he appeared.

When dad bought our first car Peggy would find a way to get her nose out into in the breeze. Once we had stopped on the way home from Colorado Springs and after partaking of refreshments (Dumbo, you mean you stopped for cokes and a pit stop) yeah, well anyway we got back in the car and just as dad was pulling away Peggy caught scent of something and jumped out of the car and was off and running through the boonies after whatever it was. There was an adult meeting of the minds between Mom and Dad. The decision made, which was only partially revealed to me then consisted of another soft drink, a candy bar and some peanuts. I was fearful that Peggy had ran away but the folks said that she had probably got wind of a rabbit close by and would be back soon after she tired of the chase. Unknown to me was that Mom and Dad were only going to wait about so long an then give her up. The candy bar was eaten, the peanuts slowly chomped and the last drop of pop drained. Dad and Mom said that Peggy apparently was going to be away for awhile and that maybe we could come back next weekend for her, meanwhile we had to go home because tomorrow was a work day for them and a school day for me. That was not an idea that appealed to me, I felt we were abandoning her. Mom and Dad got in the car and waited for me and trudging at a rate of a millimeter an hour I headed for the car. Just before I got in, here came Peggy running, tongue lolling, panting and tired. No prize was contained in her jaws, but whatever she was chasing hadn't turned on her and hurt her.

I spent the rest of the way home giving her a strong talking to. At my age I still felt that she could understand what was said. I still think there was a strong possibility that she had senses unknown to man and I think now that she read the moods of her people rather than the actual words. But it appeared to be an understanding of what was said and she made the right moves at the right time which gave me the impression she knew English. Peggy did not have a tail to put between her legs but it was plain that she knew she was in trouble and put herself on muted behavior for quite some time.

I never kept a log book or journal telling what happened and when, but it was probably two or three years after I became aware of Peggy that our little female kitty came to live with us. All that ever stayed in my mind was that someone had given the kitty to Dad and Mom. They discussed what her name should be and I was open to whatever they decided. It was weird I never knew if there was rhyme or reason to it, but she was named Bedelia.

I was accepted as a member of her family and she would ride on my shoulders around the neighborhood. I must have been a sight, a little kid wearing a feline fur collar with a stubby dog trotting along beside him as I did my thing or things.

Of course neutering pets was something only rich folks could afford back then. So a grand procession of kitties and puppies passed through our house. I remember one time Peggy had pups and they were up and around fairly well when Bedelia had a litter of kittens, chuckle, in a dresser drawer that Mom had left open on her way out leaving for work in a hurry. When the kittens were old enough to ramble around a bit, the pups being older tormented those little cats something awful. It wasn't long though before the kittens grew big enough to get back at the pups. A feisty cat would stalk a pup or sometimes just boldly walk up to the animal and take a swipe across the pups nose, make a leap or two and jump up on something higher than the pups could reach.

Dad and Mom put table scraps that would dry and become burnable in a short time on top of the coal in a coal bucket. Now, back then coal buckets were lopsided contraptions, one end almost vertical and the opposite end at almost a 45 degree angle up from the base. To either side the scuttle was symmetrical. Whenever there was a litter of pups learning the ropes at least one of them would decide to get up in the coal scuttle and nosh on the scraps up there. And of course the animal would get to the wrong end of the scuttle and its weight would cause the scuttle to tip over with coal rolling across the linoleum noisily and one very scared puppy would go into hiding.

Both animals were good mothers, Peggy was the smart one, when the pups were old enough to run around outside with her she took them on her daily route to each of the neighbors and that fat rascal had the neighbors giving tid-bits to the pups too. They got enough to eat at home, but fattened from the generosity of the people who lived close by.Puppy time of course kept Peggy at home taking care of her kids and my walks were somewhat lonely due to her absence from my side.

The years rolled on, Bedelia with out a litter at the time didn't return one night from one of her excursions. She was missed, but the possibilities of harm to a cat were too numerous, keeping us from finding out what became of her.

We had other cats with us but Bedelia was the senior topkick. But when she didn't return Mom and Dad didn't bring home another kitten. Nor did I push the matter.

It was not too long before we moved to the new house Dad and Mom had built at the other end of town that Peggy scratched at the door one night to be let out in her usual manner but never returned. I spent my spare time roaming the neighborhood looking for her and asking people if they had seen her, to no avail. She was probably 12 or 13 years old, not as spry as she once was and I comforted myself thinking that dogs did as elephants did (according to common thought) and went off to a secret place to die, I would not let myself think that she had been hit by a car or beat to death by vandals.

Heather and I have been without pets since our daughters cat had to be put down and there is no possibility here in our apartment to have a forbidden pet. But I have had a hankering for one a very long time.

Since Heather's brother's wife died one of their grandsons moved in with him and brought his pet blonde Labrador dog Pixie with him. He works long hours and plays athletically as well as dating. So when visiting brother-in-law after his grandson moved in Pixie challenged me with barking loudly and letting me know that I am on her territory. But, little by little she decided that I was harmless and became blase when we would come. Once when she was near me I gave her an ear / jowl rub and our love affair began. Heather and her brother are not dog people and her master doesn't seem to take time to play with her, so that lonesome animal has become a devoted friend, she thrives on being petted and will bring her play toy to me to toss out as far as I can for her to run and retrieve it and bring it back. She will tease for a while but will finally give it up and chase after it when it is thrown.

In a way I feel complete now, though I know that the probability of us having a long time relationship is not good.

In a lot of ways I agree that a best friend has Four Legs . . . . . .

Blog