You've Got to Have Friends

Dogs are considered Man's Best Friend, but dogs need friends too. I know, it sounds like a Hallmark Card, but if you live your life alone -- man or beast (or woman, as my moms would say) -- the world can be a cold, bitter, and lonely place.

This is Monty. He's a standard poodle. We share distant ancestory. It's hard to tell in this photo as we look nothing alike in size, shape, or color. Monty is what's affectionately known in the dog breeding business as a party color, but don't let the name fool ya. He's a jovial guy, but very laid back. If you look closely at this photo, you can see how his head is slightly turned away from my sleeping body. Even my more assertive advances were received with a gentle sniff and then a turned shoulder.

Monty's head is about the size of my whole body. For now, anyway. And his legs are so long that I can walk underneath him standing on my own hind legs if I wanted to. His tail, though docked, is larger than my own leg. Astonishing.

It's hard to see his eyes in any of these pictures, but they are warm and considerate eyes -- slightly crossed -- but contemplative all the same. I hope one day to have eyes as nice as Monty's.

Even though we are still getting to know each other his aloofness does not mean we won't be fast friends when I grow a bit more. I can tell that he likes me and yes, I like him as well. But he is big. Very big and that can be rather intimidating to a little fuzzy guy like myself.


I have other friends, too. Lulu came to visit tonight and the other day I travelled to her house for a romp in her yard. She's patient and kind, but tonight I got her to race around the backyard and she let me chase her. She chased me, too, but that's what friends do -- share.

Perhaps my biggest adventure today was visit from Lucy, a Boston Terrier about my size, but thrice my age. We were shy at first, but then we played and growled and chased and jumped and yipped for hours. I was so tired, I forgot to eat my lunch. Even now, as my little paws tap out the last words of this message, my eyelids are heavy with exhaustion -- a friendly exhaustion I might add.