At My Age, It's Just Our Third Anniversary

It was love at first sight. She was so bright-eyed and full of life. Young and old couldn't stay away from her, and neither could I.

So the little black scottish terrier came home with me on October 15th, 2005. I named her Islay, after my most favorite Scottish island, pronounced "eye-lah" by the way, and we set about getting to know each other in the way that men who think they know dogs are managed immediately and completely by a four-footed who has a much clearer view of the world.

The three years has gone by in a blink, and without too many ups and downs. Oh, there was the time she took off, and by the time I found her fifteen minutes later, my heart was stuck in my throat...for about two days, as I remember it. Then she had a stay at my favorite kennel and was beginning to have some digestive problems until an old friend dognapped her, pirate style, and kept her with her menagerie of beasts until my return.

When she arrived at my old farmhouse, I thought about putting her in a crate or keeping her in a small room overnight, but that lasted about two, maybe three nano seconds. Now she leaps onto a storage container at the foot of the bed, and then onto the bed itself. Immediately, she finds a place nearby, generally where I have planned to put my feet.

She did this last night, so I moved to the middle of the bed, and when I awoke she had moved to the head of the bed where I normally put mine. d If I slumber too long, she will move herself next to me and then roll gently into me just enough to get me to open my eyes.

Her alternative solution to the problem is to leap down from the bed and walk around it, her nails clicking on the floor, and then I am up like a shot at hearing those sounds.

Quite a few scotties have been part of my life, and I have loved them all, even the paraplegic one I inherited from my mother, but none of them comes close to Islay in energy, creativity, leaps and jumps, showing affection.

Dog lovers will understand what I mean when I write that she makes me a better person, that she brings ineffable joy to my life each and every day, she makes me walk and ride my geezer trike with her trotting alongside. She comes to the office and watches over us, greeting the letter carrier, delivery person, or guest with tail-wags and a sense of excitement.

It is a true statement that I cannot imagine my life without her.

Islay came to me from the local Humane Society. They told me that she was found wandering in Saint Paul by Animal Control staff. I don't know whether that's true or not, but I do know that whatever conspiracy it was which allowed her to become part of my life is a conspiracy for which I am deeply grateful.

So if you think you might be able to help out an animal, dog or cat or gerbil or whatever, visit your local humane society. If you find a new companion, you can be sure that it will open your heart in new ways and make your days full of sunshine, and your gift will be repaid a thousand-fold.

You are hereby warned.