Sometimes I forget that Pearl moved away seven years ago, she has slipped into the rhythms of life her as if she had never left. Pearl is a champion show dogs, and show dogs like her are adaptable, they spend much of their lives going from place to place, piling up points and ribbons, they are selected for their grounding and temperament. Pearl blends in, adapts to other dogs, figures out where the food is, demands her share of attention.

She is not intimidated by Frieda, impressed by Red, deferential to Lenore. She has an imperious nature suggesting she is the Queen of all she surveys. She expects – demands – attention and she has the big brown eyes to get it. Pearl sleeps downstairs by herself on her new soft bed, she can’t make it up the stairs any longer. When any dog approaches me for a pat, her big head is right there. When I walk into the kitchen to cook or even look at the dog treats, she is there.

She was not anxious for a minute when Emma left, she went right to the dinner bowl, and those two are joined at the hip. I have longed argued that separation anxiety is quite often a construct of human, not dog neuroses. People need to think of their dogs as pining away for them, so they dogs learn to do it. As much as Pearl loves Emma, she is not neurotic, she makes herself at home wherever she is, the mark of the well bred, well grounded, well trained dog. I will be happy to have three dogs again in a few weeks,  I like listening to Pearl snore – like a Mack Truck – while I work. She is usually by my side.

Pearl is in good shape, Emma has taken wonderful care of her, but I see she has decline, she has athritis in her Titanium re-constructed legs and there will not be too many more visits here, if any. I am happy she is here.