A Heartbeat At My Feet
Edith Wharton wrote those words to describe her “little dog”. Many of us know that sweet weight against our ankles and the snuffling or snoring that comes from beneath the table as we write or dine. While housesitting and doing WorkAway these past two months, I’ve met many lovely dogs. Bertie is the resident Golden Lab at the home in Somerset. I’ve already written about how he woke me EARLY every morning at Bertie O’Clock to feed him and let him out to wee. He was my sweet companion all day and late into the evening. His presence completed my long nurtured fantasy of walking in the English rain and coming back to write by the fire. He’s even the kind of dog I imagined being with! Beautiful Nyx is the Black Lab here at my WorkAway in Alton. Kathryn is training her to be a therapy dog for visiting elder care homes, so socialization and obedience are priorities.
The English are CRAZY about dogs. Canines of all sizes accompany their Humans on strolls around the town, stopping to nosh a cookie left out for them at storefronts or handed over by shopkeepers. They walk calmly, not like the untrained creatures that drag their owners down the street in my neighborhood. A local pub had a Puppy Play hour sponsored by the pet store a few weeks ago. The owners blocked off an area and let the dogs run around for an hour. Nyx was the smallest of the bunch, dwarfed by a humongous Newfoundland, whose owner, a self proclaimed “passionate alcoholic” explained the intricacies of dog shows to me. The Humans ran the gauntlet through the hairy madness, cocktails and pints of cider held carefully. Everyone was friendly, united in our love for “man’s best friend”.
My own dogs and cats are being tended to by my husband and younger son. My oldest goes over once a week to give them lovies; V and Z2 will feed them and pick up poo, but they aren’t affectionate with my pack. Whenever I pet Bertie and Nyx, I send a telepathic message of love to my gang-gang, as we call them. It’s sort of like a modern version of the 101 Dalmatian’s Twilight Barking, letting my babies know that I miss them and I’ll see them not very soon.
