Like Red, Zinnia is not into drama. She loves the other dogs and she loves Maria. But like Red, she just decided early on to be my dog. Great dogs with the right people become extensions of one another.
I think there is a point with some dogs where they simply connect to a human, each one becomes a part of the other, each one always seems to be around the other.
When I am writing in my studio, which is a lot of the time, I look down every so often. Sometimes, Zinnia is asleep, sometimes chewing on a bone. Sometimes she is just sitting up looking at me, watching me, waiting for me.
I am lucky with dogs. Rose was my dog, so was Izzy, so was Red. Frieda was Marias dog, as is Fate. Bud is a family dog, he belongs to all of us.
When I go into the kitchen to do the dishes or get something to eat, she is there. When I go into the bathroom, she comes alone. She loves to be with me when I write, I think she grasps in some primal and unarticulated way that this is important to me, and she wants to be a part of it
She is a dog and I am a person, but at times, we are one thing, together.
What makes a dog my dog? A calm love, a quiet love. There are words for it, nor are words necessary. It just is.
Jon, re Zinnia …..”we are one thing together”.
You’ve said exactly what I say to my Meg, a red-tri Australian Shepherd, now 8 years old, I say to her: “I am you; you are me; we are one”.
And we are. You are right, there are some dogs that come into our lives, as you say, as guardian angels. She is with me most of the time, in her bed in my studio, watching over me. Yet, Annie, my other Aussie, couldn’t be more different…aloof, sleeping elsewhere on her own. When you have a dog that is your soul mate, it’s an unexplained gift, a mystery. I treasure every day I have on this earth to spend it with my girl, Meg..
Sandy Proudfoot