Monday, September 16, 2013

My best partner (probably not what you're thinking).

As I sit here, thinking of what I'd like to touch on in this post; I find myself consistently stalled by thoughts of a certain someone.  Let me tell you about him.

He was a happy surprise entry into my life.  Once he'd settled in, he made his place in my and my family's life.  He needed no formal schooling in what was expected of him. He and I grew close to a depth that resembled that people who've known each other for decades share.  He communicated with me wordlessly.  Often, all he'd need to do was momentarily look to me, and I could tell him what the situation required with a glance, tone of voice, or a sharp *snap*.

Yes, I'm describing one of the very best companions I've ever had in my life.  His name was Spirit, and he was a German Shephard/Corgi mix.  Sharp as a molecular blade, devoted as monk, as intuitive as any psychic could claim to be, and a fast enough runner to leave a flame trail in his wake.  We never had to house-break him, never had to train him to voice commands, and pretty much felt as if he'd come with all the usual requirements pre-installed.  We got him as a tiny lil puppy...how we got him was awesome.

My mother had been at the store in a town south of our home and while headed back home came across an 18-wheeler literally parked in the middle of the highway in the opposite lane.  Pulling up along-side the truck on the shoulder of her side of the road, she saw that the puppy was just standing there in front of it and barking like he was giving it the command to "stay".  The semi driver was totally nonplussed.  He couldn't move the truck with the dog there, and when he shooed the puppy away, by the time he'd gotten into the semi the puppy retook his place in front of the truck.

So my mother opens the door, whistles and calls the puppy, and he just looks over and upon seeing her call to him romps over to her car and jumps in, hopping onto her lap then into the floorboard of the front passenger seat...like he'd simply been waiting for her to get there.  Like she was his intended ride.  

I freaking LOVED that about him.  I don't give fate much creedence but if he wasn't "supposed to be" our dog, I can't think of a better example of it.

Over the years, he and I bonded to the point that l could command him via whisper, finger-snaps, etc.  I could put my plate full of food down on the floor and he NEVER was the sort that would even sniff at it..seemingly knowing that that plate was mine...paws off.  

I was reminded of the day, recently...by an old high-school friend, when I and a handful of friends were at our home on the back porch.  One of us lit a joint and passed it around (very much not a normal thing, especially not where we were just then).  I noticed that he began to follow the "J" around the table and decided that I'd do my lil buddy a solid and took a deep hit off of it, then blew it into his face.  He of course sneezed and shook his head, and then went back to following the J around the table.  Pretty soon everyone was giving him secondary hits like I had.  My bud liked bud!

Now if you're about to get uppity over sharing a little Mary Jane with my pet, bite me.  If he didn't want it, he'd have left.  He wasn't a glutton for punishment outside what the birds he chased did to him. (another story for another time) and he never suffered any negative impact from it.  Unless you call getting the puppeh munches negative.  

He was always aware of my emotional state.  Acting (not merely reacting to it) in an approximation of what any real human friend of mine would attempt. His tail went to warp when I came home from school and for the longest time I took great comfort with him sleeping in my room. He had "asshole" radar like it'd been designed by a military contractor.  Didn't like uniforms (as it is with many dogs) and once chased a slightly overweight County Sheriff's deputy out of my yard.  The cop took off running, slammed the gate shut behind him and leaned on it heaving while I'm screaming for him to not shoot Spirit and for Spirit to get his ass back to me.

What's the cop do?  He says...and I quote.."I didn't think I could run that fast anymore".  


Spirit...a one in a million companion who I will miss till my dying day where perhaps I'll see him again.  Is it weird that I still miss my lil' bruddah more than most humans I've ever known? 

Let me know what you think...or leave a story about your fave pet.

Like, subscribe...and comment at will, please!!

No comments: