Friday, November 26, 2010

The Prodigal Son

See this sleepy doggie? He's just come back from a day of wandering far, far away.

Mr. De Mille, I'm ready for my close-up.

We don't know where he goes. Except that it's very far away and he comes back later every day. Dadda thinks it signals a lack of loyalty. After all we feed him and he gets all the cuddles he can take. But I think it's a very poignant form of loyalty. Like Greyfriars' Bobby he returns to scenes of past pleasures, former haunts, maybe an old master? Then he makes the long, long tramp back to arrive only when it's dark. When he arrives he licks me, heads straight for the kitchen, drinks a lot of water, eats whatever we have put out for him, and then comes to the hall, flops down and goes to sleep. You can try to wake him, but the little doggie is just plain exhausted. I cleaned the pus-filled wound with the saline Julie bought and he whimpers if I press too hard.

He's an old dog. It's difficult for him to make the two-way trek. He's tired. But he does it anyway.

Isn't that what loyalty is all about?

So when the prodigal son returns now, I have no heart to scold him. I just pat him on the head, accept his affection and then feed and water him.

My Arnold is a lovely dog.

Maybe one day he won't return.

I'll enjoy him till then.

(He's doing the whimpery bark in his sleep...he barks like this when he's trying desperately to tell you I want to go out now, please let me out, please, please let me out, I have to go)

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