Don’t We All Need a Friend? On the Meaning of Dogs
November 2, 2016
by Stephen Cooper
Friend is a reddish-brown submarine of a dog not unlike a cross between a miniature Jersey cow and tan Easter Bunny. His extra long hash-brown colored ears, silkier than satin, frame his stoic, bovine face. Friend cuts an imposing figure based on bulk but hes a gentle giant and thats why my wife and I decided to call him Friend not Frank, as he was named by the rescue organization from which we adopted him.
Dog people (people of the dog, dog lovers whatever you want to call them theyre a large cross-section of humanity in this country) smile when they see Friend lumbering down the street, taking my wife, or me, or both of us, for a walk. Passersby on foot and in cars often stare in admiration and point at Friend especially when they hear him hound. Friends distinctive bay comes from deep in his diaphragm and his throat is thick with muscles capable of producing a high-decibel type whoop-whooping that provokes droll imitation by children and adults (who really are too old for that kind of thing, especially leaning out their car windows).
Friend is a red-tick coonhound who, not long before we adopted him, was found wandering all alone in a field in Pennsylvania. The rescue organization speculated he was two years old, and the abandoned hunting dog of an obviously abusive owner. Sadly, Friend bears telltale signs of maltreatment. A white scar circles his massive head like a misshapen ivory necklace the outline of a dog collar once allowed (or worse, forced) to embed in the loose folds of skin that hang about Friends massive neck. Also, Friends back right leg, once fractured perhaps chasing prey while hunting healed improperly and without proper care, resulting in Friends early development of arthritis and a permanent limp when he walks. Sometimes Friend forgets his leg is hurt and suddenly, when the spirit moves him, hell hop when he barks, punctuating his howl. And amazingly, even now, at the stately age of about 9, there are times Friend will unexpectedly jolt forward at Olympic speed triggered by an odiferous whiff in the air, a fire hydrant, a trashcan, or any communal point of canine urinary correspondence.
Despite an inauspicious start in life, like all dogs, Friend doesnt dwell on past misfortunes.
More:
http://www.counterpunch.org/2016/11/02/dont-we-all-need-a-friend-on-the-meaning-of-dogs/
Jim__
(14,076 posts)MFM008
(19,814 posts)To lose one.
lillypaddle
(9,580 posts)get the red out
(13,466 posts)6 years ago gave me a life beyond life-long depression and anxiety. We adopted her two days after my Dad's funeral. The little black and white fur ball grew up to be STRONGLY on the Border Collie side, so I got her a "job", dog agility. I am not very good at it, but I love it! I get out and have made friends in several states. She has given my husband a lot of joy too. Now we have a new Border Collie puppy, and these sweet souls love each other like they love us. There is no comfort like that pup flying across the living room and leaping up into my lap, or my girl curing up next to me at bed-time.
Time to feed some breakfast to the wild pair that keeps me going.
brer cat
(24,565 posts)"I get out and have made friends in several states." I have visions of verrry long walks behind your Border Collie!
I'm glad she helped with your depression.
get the red out
(13,466 posts)I should have put when we travel to agility trials.