Thanksgiving is here. ’Tis the season to count our blessings. When embracing the gratitude attitude, my critters are right at the top of my “Thank you for being a friend” list.
I am very grateful for all my animals. But there is something about my old dog’s patient acceptance of my human shortcomings that is quite humbling. I wish I knew if I make Twirley Jane feel as loved and important as she does me.
At home, she is by my side like a hairy black and white shadow. When I head off to bed, Twirley has already pre-warmed my spot. I don’t know how she came up with the notion it was her job to be my hot-water bottle. But she does it with the care and competence of an English nanny. As soon as I flip back the covers, she moves to the foot of the bed, or off it entirely.
If I get up in the middle of the night, she does, too. When sleep eludes, I head toward the kitchen table at 3 a.m. to write. She drags her arthritic bones up from her warm soft bed and follows me, flopping down at my feet on the cold hard floor with a gusty sigh.
Whenever I leave, I tell my little animal kingdom “I’ll be back.” And then announce that Twirley is in charge. This stalwart canine takes her job seriously. From her favorite lookout on the front porch, she stands sentry against interlopers. Humans, ducks or falling leaves, Twirley Jane is on duty.
When I return, no matter what the time or temperature, Twirley runs to greet my car. Actually, at her advanced age, it’s more like a lope. But she always greets me with engaging enthusiasm, evidenced by her eagerly wagging tail, open-mouthed canine grin and laughing brown eyes.
As soon as the car door opens, Twirley is ready to give a full report.
“Good to see you! Our perimeters remain protected. The crows tried to invade the yard, but I ran them off. Did you get any carrots?” Her favorite person is home, her favorite enemies are thwarted and her favorite treat might be moments away. She’s stoked. But I am missing the moment.
It’s not that her loyal greeting doesn’t register on some level as a warm-fuzzy in my heart. But it is far too easy for this human to get wrapped up in the busy bother of her daily existence to sometimes give the old girl the attention she deserves. A murmured ”Hi Girl” and a pat on the head are the scant rewards she receive for her efforts. It’s not enough.
I was away for the past two days. Twirley was again in charge. (In reality, my crew was left in the capable hands for my faithful pet-sitter Cindy. Shh. Don’t tell the pooch. It would devastate her.)
As usual, when my car cornered the driveway, there she was, bouncing down from her sentry’s position on the porch. But this time, instead of gathering my packages and heading for the door, I made sure to give Ms. Jane her due – in the form of a timely treat and a rousing game of tag.
Thanks Twirley. For everything. You’re the best.
How about you? Any one furry, feathered or finned for whom you are most grateful?
