This Month's Story

(Originally published in 2003)

“You write about Holly, why don’t you write about Jennie?”

Stella had been watching me sleep on the living room floor and when I woke greeted me with this admonition. I looked around. There lying less than a foot from me was Jennie, our Weimaraner, sound asleep but managing to stay as close to me as she could. On the other hand, Holly, our black tom, was on the other side of the room lying in the warm sun near the sliding glass door to the porch, probably wanting to go out.

I sat up and looked at the two. I’ll admit it, I take a nap during the day, usually at noon. I’m not ashamed. It’s usually a crash thing that last between twenty and thirty minutes. These naps are a residue of my time in service when I learned a powerful lesson: when you get a moment, seize it, take a nap. It is a regime that has stood me in good stead for many years.

These naps really are power naps. They refresh me. Years ago when I woke up from one I would feel great and get up from one knowing I could work for another eight or ten hours smashing boulders, leaping tall buildings, etc., before needing a recharge. Now, when I get up from one I feel like charging a herd of angry buffalos. A very small herd, but still …

When I do take these naps, I usually take them on the living room floor and Jennie usually joins me, lying close to me and staying there till I wake up. When we had other dogs, they did this as well. There was a time when Stella and I had three Weimaraners in the house. Mind you, these are big dogs, averaging seventy or so pounds. It seems strange to me now that we were able to have them inside the house. Although all we have now is Jennie, she can be a handful at times.

All three of the dogs would saunter in when I took my daily nap. It was a sort of ritual. Each would quietly arrange itself around me according to its position in the household hierarchy, the alpha dog near my head, the second at my waist and the third relegated to my feet. Once down none would move till I woke up.

The pattern in which they laid in reference to my position on the floor was also interesting. That is, they would lay with their hindquarters toward me and their heads pointed out. Sometimes the head would be tucked back in my direction, but the body was always oriented away from me. It took years for me to realize there was a reason for all this and that in doing what they did, they were paying me an very personal compliment.

The pattern around me, in fact the reason they came in the room to lay around me when I took a nap, was an inherent act, peculiar to pack animals. They were forming their bodies into a sort of perimeter defense. So, when I laid down and went to sleep and, in effect, became vulnerable, I was immediately enclosed in a defensive circle of noble canine warriors.

When viewed that way, this commonplace act by these loyal animals that for a too short a time shared my life, was a wondrous thing.

So in answer to Stella’s rebuke, I am happy to pass on this small bit of wisdom I got from a very close friend years ago:

THIRTEEN THINGS YOU CAN LEARN FROM YOUR DOG

1. When your loved one comes home, run to greet him.
   
2. Take naps.
   
3. Eat with gusto.
   
4. When it’s hot, drink lots of water.
   
5. Take naps.
   
6. Never bite, growl. If it’s a friend, growl silently.
   
7. Give unconditional love. Do this twice each day. Increase this amount on weekends and holidays.
   
8. Take naps.
   
9. Stay close to your loved one in times of stress. Get closer when things get worse. Get as close as you can when things get very bad.
   
10. When you want something badly, dig for it. Dig hard.
    
11. Take naps.
    
12. If you are happy show it, wag your tail.
    
13. Take more naps.