GRAND DOG

 

I dropped my daughter’s toy poodle off at the groomer’s this morning. When I left her, she looked at me as though to say, “You are leaving me here with these horrid barking dogs? Why?”

Holly is not just a dog. She is a family member, spoiled and manipulative just like any pampered child. She knows who will feed her tidbits of people food (me) and who will pick her up when she whines (my son-in-law), but the person she loves the most is my daughter, Rachael. Holly will pay equal attention to every family member – including me – until “Mama” comes home. The center of her world has arrived, and the rest of us could fall off the planet. She would never notice.

Oh, sure, when I show up at the door, Holly comes running, barking her greeting and begging to be picked up, but only long enough to sniff my face and find out what I ate last. Then it’s back to Rachael. Every move my daughter makes is monitored by this white ball of fluff. If Rachael sits down, Holly snoozes beside her. If Rachael moves, Holly pops awake, ready to follow her beloved mistress anywhere.

If someone knocks at the door, Holly charges through the living room, barking ferociously and ready to hurl her entire three pounds at any threat to her family. If visitors are admitted, she goes into airport security mode, thoroughly sniffing feet and legs to make sure no dangerous odors are sneaked into the house.

For a treat, Holly will roll over like a tiny barrel, then take the treat and hide it a closet or under an errant sock. Maddie’s closet is her favorite hiding place. Holly’s cache is seldom disturbed there among the shoes and toys and clothes. When the closet is cleared out during a cleaning frenzy, Holly just starts over, building her stash along with the disorder, preparing for the day when someone forgets to fill her dog dish.

Sometime today I will fetch Holly from the groomer’s. I am sure she will exhibit all the attributes of a newly crowned princess, then smell my face to see what I ate for lunch.