Poopin' In The Rain

This fine chap is Rory aka BoyDog. He answers to either; sometimes I think he actually prefers the nickname to his real name. I don't much care as I gave him both and generally, he ignores them both when he doesn't wish to come when called. Much to The Queen's displeasure. Here you see him sporting his Steelers jersey. He's a huge fan. Well, not really; he simply feels the team's colors suit his complexion.

How do I describe his personality to you? He's Forrest Gump in a dog suit. He's the lead soul in The Simple Soul Society, (okay I just made that Society up, but I'm thinking I might be on to something...) If Southern women were talking to him, they'd say, "Well bless your heart," as they are want to do when talking to an odd individual. And, they would mean it! You get the drift I think.

He's a lot like Yoki in that the simple act of being is the most complicated work he has. He exists just to be my dog. He's content with things the way they come. And, contrary to the reputation that Scottish Terriers are aloof and stand-offish, Rory never got the memo, so has never met a Human Being he didn't find fascinating. Just like his Mommer.

Rory is a wheaten colored Scottie, not to be confused with a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier... Those of us obsessed with our Scottish Terriers call our dogs of this caramel color, Sweetie Wheatie. He is that for certain. Completely, simply sweet.

Just so you are chock-full of trivial information to share at your next social gathering, Scotties come in several colors, but most of us are only familiar with the classic black ones, such as our Fiona. There are no white Scotties. None. The only white terrier is the West Highland.

Coincidentally, there is a Westie in our neighborhood, Jack, who is Rory's very best friend in the whole world. When Jack comes to call, BoyDog makes a noise reserved for him alone. It's better than a doorbell announcing that Jack and his mother, Jill, (I know, isn't that a riot?) are waiting at the door.

I've never had a dog have a best friend. But, that's one of the things that makes Rory unique. Jack feels the same about him. When you watch them play, it truly is like watching four year old boys tussling together. Very sweet. Rory waits for Jack to come strolling by; he sits in the chair by the front window peering out on alert. Yes, our BoyDog has quite the cushy life.

However, yesterday in the driving rain, poor Rory would have argued my thinking as he was stuck forever due to difficulty completing his morning constitutional. Normally we're out and back in. But, not yesterday. Just like us on our off days, it took waaayyyy too long. His head bounced from the big drops splattering him on the noggin, ears back listening to the wind howl. He was giving me the rolling eyes completely flummoxed as to what to do.

He'd finish and run to the safety of the deck, only to give that, "Oops! Not done yet," look turning and racing back down into the yard for another try. Four times! And, me popping in and out getting soaked along with him. Acting like a deranged cheer leader, "Good boy, Rory! Good Boy!! It's all right, I'm here! You can do it! Good BoyDog!"

At last, completely soaked to the skin, (both of us,) Rory completed his morning mission. And, while both of us were wet, he had gone through so much, what does one do? You get a towel and get to work drying off the poor dog, first! You stand there wet and uncomfortable but the dog, the dog comes first.

And it seems completely normal. Hell, my wonderful dog was soaked because of attempts to poop in the rain! What choice does a good mother have?

Hugs and praise where administered freely because I recognized that he went through all of that because he didn't want to displease me by soiling in our house. Simple he may be, but he knows better and did better! What a good dog!

So, in my usual twisted fashion, this soggy episode got me to thinking: I've often said, "In my next life, I want to come back as my own pet!" Talk about the good life! And, I know it's the very same for yours. Yoki and Meggie barely lifted their heads to say, 'Goodbye, have a good day,' as I grabbed my keys and headed out to work each morning. And, I'd think as I started the car, "WTF is wrong with this picture!!? Man, I really picked the wrong part in this case!"

Then again things aren't always as they seem, are they? Very little is as wonderful as it appears. If you find yourself out in the cold dark, peering with longing through the window of someone's life, it may appear all bright and snug. But, from where you are, you can't know what hardship and discomfort also lurk in the dark corners inside out of your view. No matter what you observe in a glimpse, no one's life is as grand as it seems. No one's.

We all have those passing Discomforts- not unlike BoyDog having to poop outside in the howling wind and rain. And because today, I don't have that problem, I think I'll say my life is great and I am grateful. It is the small things that can really bring it into momentary clarity. The truth of things...not what we think of things. Discomfort comes and moves on...the key is to identify and latch on to the true parts that don't shift and stay with loving constancy...

As for today? It's a much better day for Rory out in the yard. For poopin', sniffin', and simply bein'! In typical Scottie fashion, he says, "Aroo! to you." Oh yeah, aroo? That's a signature Scottish Terrier sound. Only they make it. And, once you've heard it, you'll always know when a Scottie is gamboling about like a good Wild Highlander.

Namaste' Till Next Time,

Holly aka Mommer