Woman's Best Friend

"Men may come

and men may go,

but believe me,

this moment with this doggie

will linger forever..... "-Kalyani Davidar

Though our family had many dogs while I was growing up in the family home, the one dog that I called mine was, "Spotty". He was just a mutt, with black and white spots, short wiry hair that was not particularly soft and a funny little stubby tail. I loved that dog and he knew it. I'd pet him and give him a hug each morning before I left for school. In the afternoon his inner time clock must have known it was 3:30 as he'd be sitting by the front yard waiting for my return. Once I got close he'd get so excited he would start to run circles around the house. It was hilarious. He'd run so fast around and around the house and then finally he'd stop and run to me and jump up and down. What a greeting! What a display of sheer joy that I had returned to him. I loved to sit on our big front porch where I would play jacks or hop-scotch. Spotty was always by my side. As a child it was comforting to have this best friend that I could talk to, play with, chase and be chased or simply just be with. He was such a huge love of my life. Spotty's downfall was that he loved to chase passing cars. Often he'd nearly get hit and we tried to stop this bad habit but to no avail. One day he was hit by a car he was chasing. When I got home from school my grandma told me Spotty had been hit by a car. She said he had crawled under the house and would not come out. She told me not to call him as dogs can bite even people they love when they are hurt. I didn't listen to her. I searched for him, calling out his name. I bent down and looked under one of the crawl spaces beneath the house. I could see him laying there and I said softly, "Spotty come here." He was badly injured more than I could have known but with all that he could he made his way, dragging himself to me. There I could only just reach in and stroke his head and talk to him. I didn't want to eat dinner that night. I was so worried about Spotty. I lay in bed and I could hear my mom talking to the family. She said Spotty had died. I remember sobbing into my pillow and feeling the first lost love of my life. What a huge big emptiness I felt. I cried myself to sleep. I loved that little doggie so. To this day I remember the feeling of loving him and feeling that same kind of affectionate love in return.

--revised reflections from my diary c.1950's Barb Cabot