Why I Love My Troublesome Dog

Daisy the Loveable

           Daisy is a black border collie/ chow mix, which means she is both smart and pushy.  She has damaged our doors and window sills because of storm anxiety.  Not only storm anxiety, but firecracker anxiety, gunshot anxiety, and any loud noises whatsoever anxiety.  I’ve had dogs all my life and never encountered a dog with such a fear.  So it was in the beginning of our association that Daisy destroyed our doors and windows until we learned to crate her whenever we left the house.  She never balked whenever I said “Crate!” She made a beeline for her basement crate and looked relieved when I left her there before leaving the house.

            Non-dog lovers would often ask me why on earth I’d ever put up with a dog like that.  Even my favorite talk show host, Dennis Prager, said on his show that he thought dogs should compliment a human’s life, not complicate it.  In other words, a dog should be quiet unless there’s a threat, should not do annoying things like jumping up or peeing on the floor.  And I completely agree.  Dogs should be trained in the rudiments of civilized man behavior.  The thing is, though, human babies come with a plethora of annoying behaviors, including making noises when you don’t want them to and peeing on things.  It is through the patient endurance of annoyance and then effective training that a baby of either species becomes domestically tolerable. 

            But then there’s Daisy with her fears.  There is no training out of her an instinctual fear of loud noises.  We tried drugs (Dennis would really find this annoying) and we tried therapy (oh, boy) and the latest is a tight coat sold specifically for storm anxiety that cost us $36.00.  This latest seems to help although Daisy thought she was being singled out for punishment when I didn’t put coats on our other two dogs.  Her ears were down, and her face sad, and she insisted on staying under foot the whole time. 

            So Daisy is just a whole heap of trouble to me.  The question keeps arising in my mind, why do I put up with this?  (Thanks, Dennis.)  It really doesn’t make much sense to complicate my life any more than it already is.  She is just a dog, after all.  There are millions of dogs without these problems. But here is what I’ve come up with.

            If Daisy was human, she would be a nurse.  I know this because she is a nurturer.  She knows when a human in the family is sick or suffering, even if it is emotional suffering.  One touching example was when my husband was lying in bed after hip surgery, and he got the news that his mother had died.  Daisy could hear him crying in the bedroom, but she was not permitted in that part of the house.  Risking punishment, Daisy went through the safety gate, suffered the Invisible Fence shock, and went to my husband’s side.  When they made eye contact, she softly slipped onto the bed (another verboten act) and laid her head on his chest.  My cat-loving spouse was so touched by this that Daisy was made a permanent part of the family right then and there.  Daisy absolutely knew what she was doing – comforting someone at the risk of personal chastisement.

            When my son was in 7^th grade, he had a terrible time.  He was in a new school with a demographic of students he had never encountered before.  The kids were not cared for at home, coming to school dirty, hungry, and uncouth in behavior.  Plus, my son had the habit of pulling his hood over his head and standing apart from the others in reaction to them, which further isolated him.  When he got off the bus he couldn’t contain his tearful frustration.  That’s when Daisy would come to him, and they would both lie on the floor with his face buried in her fur.  They literally had their arms around each other every day when he got home from school.  Let me tell you that is a bond that isn’t broken when things get easier, as they did for my son the following year at a different school.  Daisy had a quality too many humans – including me – do not have:  full acceptance.  She was just there for my son, without fail, and stayed with him as long as he needed her. I would hear him telling her what happened in school each day, and she literally vocalized back to him.  I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself.

            Daisy is a beautiful dog.  She has a fuzzy gray undercoat and a long, black, silky overcoat that makes her look quite fancy.  Her chest appears to stick out and she holds her head up high.  She has an unusual mannerism of sometimes sleeping with her head upright.  Her eyes will be closed but she will be asleep.  If I speak to her during that time and awaken her, she will open one sleepy eye, sigh, and then lie down as if to say “ok, I’ll lie down if that makes you happy.”  When I come home after being away, Daisy has a lopsided “smile,” where she shows some of her teeth but only on one side, like a snarl, only not menacing at all.  She puts her head down, walks towards me, wagging wildly, with her snarly smile.  So endearing. Her beauty and unique mannerisms make us love her.

            That’s the thing about dogs.  Each one has a unique personality, just like humans do.  I’ve had dogs my entire life, and each one stands out in my mind for his/her unique constellation of characteristics.  I’ve had all of these characteristics in dogs:  aloof, clingy, hunter, pointer, digger, burier, protector, companionable, beautiful, ugly, lovable, wiggly, loyal, obedient, sneaky, faker, driven, stupid, smart, watchful, attuned, chewer, slobberer, jumper, trickster, clown.  The only kind of dog I’ve never had is a lazy one.  Dogs are always willing to please and are up for doing and going whenever you are.  All my dogs loved to ride in the car and all of them loved to be groomed.  All of them made their emotional mark on me, and I’m so glad that they did.

            So my answer to Dennis Prager is this:  Dogs aren’t humans, it’s true.  But they are aware beings capable of love, and come with a variety of pleasing traits as well as annoyances.  I don’t cast out my annoying human family members, and that’s why I don’t cast out my canine family members even when they are annoying. 

            And Daisy is at my feet as I write.