When Dogs Were Dogs (and Not Always Man’s Best Friend)
Posted: Friday, September 23, 2011
by Robert Kuhns
http://RCKuhns.com
We both grew up in families having dogs so now that we were living along the river with a larger house and a great deal larger lot it was a dog for us. I registered with the Animal Shelter for a German Boxer. I had met a Boxer as a lad delivering Saturday Evening Posts. One of my customers had one. He (the Boxer, not the customer) was a friendly, playful, handsome guy. It was my aspiration that someday I would have a Boxer.
E had a theory that a pet would live up to its name, an off-shoot of my belief that people, and dogs, will behave pretty much as theyare expected to behave. We wanted a loving, sweet pet for our young children, a docile obedient pet yet a pet that would be a protector when I was gone. The name Mimi seemed to fit the bill. Somehow we learned that Mimi means “sweet” in Hebrew. We thought of it as a feminineFrench name connoting charm, tenderness, refinement, genteelism, mannerliness, a little spirit, all the attributes we hoped for in a pet, so that is what we named her; Mimi.As to our now named Mimi dragging her former mistress, most unfortunate, but then she, meaning Mimi, was cooped up all day and as a result had all of that young dog exuberance bottled up. With us she would get a lot of exercise . . . somehow. Of course I was either working ten hours a day or was gone for ten days at a time and E had three young children to look after but we, she, E, I should say, would manage.
In those days some people let their dogs run free. A number of our neighbors had dogs but we never noticed if they let them run free.
Harry and Florence had a dog. It was large and old, a mongrel with a dull reddish coat. It had the glassy-eyed look that advanced cataracts bring to dogs. When we saw Duke, usually with Harry, he was always on a leash. Most evenings, except for winter evenings, Harry would walk Duke and stop by to visit. Harry was a genial, unconsciously profane, likable guy, thirty or more years older than we were. Mark was fascinated by Harry. He developed a colorful vocabulary for a four year old. All of his nouns were preceded by the G D phrase and instead of referring to his sisters as Kathy and Robin they became simply the god-damn girls. But as cold weather started and Harry’s visits ceased Mark resumed to a more befitting vocabulary for a four year old.
Winters along the river were bitterly cold; often double digit sub-zero cold in January and February. Our home, originally a summer home, was a poor winter home. We heated it with a gas space heater located in the living room.
According to Harry the people who lived in the house before us used two small kerosene space heaters, one in the living room and one in the kitchen. They apparently were not very effective. Harry told us that when he would visit them, three adults, in the winter each one would be perched on top of a five foot step ladder with a blanket around their shoulders reading a book. Heat rises.
So Duke did not run free – how could he? Old, infirm and blind.
Another couple who lived directly next door had a small dog, Chicko. This couple, Ennis and Enid, were retired circus/carnival entertainers. They had a roller skating act and when we had a neighborhood party they would put on their skates, bring out their 8 by 8 foot roll-up wood-slat skating mat and perform for us. The little dog, Chicko, was also part of the act, a real circus dog, walking on his two front legs as they skated, a well trained little performer.
Chicko did not run free.
Enid had a pair of ducks and they had six or seven ducklings. Enid provided the duck family with a small pen consisting of a low fence so the mama and papa duck could hop over it whenever they wanted to take a dip in the river.
Mimi, like mama and papa duck, had absolutely no trouble hopping over the low fence which she did the first time she was let out. She was very curious about the little ducklings. While she did not hurt them she certainly got them excited . . . Enid also got very excited when telling E about Mimi messing with her ducklings.
Poor E, I was 250 miles away working.
A third couple had a big yellow lab, a mellow gentleman who slept in a well built kennel winter and summer. He was allowed to run free but Trouper was so well trained and so mannerly all the neighbors welcomed his infrequent visits.
He and Mimi got along very well, in fact, so well that she enjoyed spending the night in his house. Trouper’s owners used straw for bedding in Trouper’s house. Mimi did not like straw so she threw it out where it blew all over Trouper’s owner’s yard.
There was not room for two large dogs in Trouper’s house so Trouper, gentleman that he was, slept outside.
Trouper’s mama did not like Mimi broadcasting Trouper’s straw bedding over her well manicured yard, nor did she like Trouper sleeping outside, while Mimi slept inside. Trouper’s mama was quite emphatic when she explained this to E.Poor E, I was working 325 miles away.
That winter my assignment was at my home plant – no traveling. I was able to work with Mimi and found her to be a quick study. After teaching her to sit, stay, speak, shake hands, and a trick – jumping through a hoop, I decided to teach her to pull a sled. She picked that up quickly and was very proud of that ability. Mimi and our young children enjoyed the sled rides a great deal.
When I was home she was the dog we envisioned when we named her Mimi: charming, tender with our kids, refined, except she tended to slobber a trifle, which E disliked, genteel, mannerly, all in all, a nice pet.
When I wasn’t home . . . well. An example –
A neighborhood cat loved to catch rays on our wind sheltered back porch. Mimi didn’t like that and she did not like Kitty at all, probably because the cat treated her with such disdain.
One cold, bright, wintery day E was in the kitchen fixing lunch for our young children. Mimi was with her looking out the window overlooking the porch, checking things out when Kitty strolled over to our porch and gracefully sprang to the railing banister to take a little sun bath.
The audacity of the cat using our porch for sun bathing overwhelmed Mimi. She plunged right through the window and storm window to get that damn cat. Kitty, alerted by the tinkling of broken glass, nimbly jumped off of the banister to the ground and ran off. Mimi, impeded by the porch railing, and terribly frustrated, could only watch Kitty escape.
E could not believe what Mimi had done. She was appalled by the bitter cold air that poured through the broken window into our poorly heated home. She managed to stuff a blanket in the shattered window until I could come home to replace it.
As for Mimi, a slight cut on her lip.
I routinely got up in the morning at 5:30. I would then let Mimi out while I shaved. This particular morning, a week after the cat adventure, it had snowed heavily and dainty Mimi, barefoot, was reluctant to get off of the porch and brave the snow. I stepped out onto the porch and standing on one foot with one hand on the door knob to balance myself I extended my other foot to urge Mimi off of the porch.
Rats! I stretched a little too far and the door closed and locked.
There I was locked out in the bitter cold, dressed in my undershirt, no key, no door bell, and E soundly sleeping upstairs. I remembered another neighbor, Herb, the plumber, who stored a ladder alongside the back of his garage. I went racing over to Herb’s to get his ladder. Mimi, now playful, raced with me.
I carried Herb’s ladder back to our place, set it up against the porch roof and climbed up it to get on the porch roof which was gently sloped and immediately below the window adjacent to our bed in which E was soundly sleeping. Fortunately the window was cracked open about an inch. I leaned down and shouted E’s name.
She awoke with a violent start, sat up and looked around.
“I’m here! I’m here!” I shouted.
“Where?” she asked, looking everywhere in the pitch darkness of our bedroom trying to locate me.
“Here, here, on the roof of the porch.” I pitifully cried.
Disbelieving she looked to our shade drawn window.
Ah, thank God, she saw my shadowed form!
“What are you doing out there?” she demanded, probably, I worried, suspecting some type of a prank.
“Never mind,” I desperately cried, “just let me in.”
God, I was so cold.
“Let you in? How? I can’t. The window only opens four inches.”
“I know, I know. Please, please,” I begged, “go downstairs and open the back door and let me in.”
She did. Mimi and I both come in from the cold.
Unlike John le Clarré’s Spy Who Came in from the Cold Mimi did not end by being shot but survived to evermore be the sweet, charming, obedient, mannerly, refined but occasionally slobbering which E continued to dislike, dainty pet we envisioned when we selected Mimi as her name.
We wished.
http://rckuhns.com
This Article has been viewed 86 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)Great Story, and the ladder incident is funny.
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.