Morning Markings...

Pigeon and DiDi share the couch when possible.

Please don't think me strange, but it has come to my attention that my dogs are more popular than I am. All things considered, popularity is not something that I have ever been too concerned with, but if Pigeon and DiDi were ever concerned, they need not be anymore.

When my professors see me, one of the first things I get asked is, "so, how are the dogs? Do they still like Chicago?" or my friend Angel asks, "how are my babies today?" I have some friends that come over just to see them. Pigeon gets the sympathy card for being blind, DiDi gets it because Pigeon gets all the attention. So it balances out. They have even made friends with the local pet store people. About once a week they go in for a visit while on a walk and get lots of treats from the girl behind the counter and get to visit with their little pomeranian friends. And when people from home call, they always ask about the dogs. Of course, they ask how I am too, but people realize what an important pat of my life they are. They are after all, part of my ministry most days. The neighborhood kids even know them as the dogs that you can hug. I know this sounds silly, but God gave me a great gift in my dogs. (Maybe this is why I am still single...)

Each morning I wake up in my one bedroom apartment in Hyde Park on the south side of Chicago. I don't have my glasses on yet, but I can always look to my left and there on the floor, side by side are two large masses, one dark brown and the other yellow, slowly and gently moving up and down. I can hear them breathing, and sometimes snoring. They seem to know me better than I know myself. They lie practically motionless until they finally hear me let out my daily residual sigh that I must get out of bed. Once they hear that breath they jump together. Pigeon knocking herself over with her happiness and her tail and DiDi with her slow, cat-like stretch. They make their way to the side of the bed and fight for my free hand to pet them. Although blind, Pigeon knows exactly where I am so she can fight DiDi for my morning affection.

I go to the restroom and they sit outside and wait. Afterwards, I walk into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for my morning tea. I usually turn the computer on, raise the blinds in the apartment, turn on Peter, Paul and May's "Where have all the flowers gone?" and begin to get dressed. By this time they have resigned that they will go out at the same time as every morning, after the tea kettle has whistled. Pigeon on the couch with DiDi sleeping in an open crate with pillows, or with DiDi on the couch and Pigeon curled up on my bed, sleeping among my mass of pillows.

The morning walks consist of running down the alley behind our apartment to the gate, which we then proceed out onto the sidewalk for morning markings. DiDi uses the restroom out of necessity, Pigeon, on the other hand, uses it out of spite, I am sure. She patiently waits until DiDi is done and marks her territory directly on top of DiDi's scent. Next, we make our way to the park a block over. I'll spare you the details, but I do wish to say that each morning, before I even get to enjoy my tea, I have to take care of someone else's crap. Take that as you will.

After the morning walk they settle in, that is of course, after they have had several treats. They find their places in the apartment where they are happy for the time being. Bones are strewn all over the house as well as kong chew toys and the water bowls are plentiful.

I leave for campus or church, and each time I leave and return, no matter for how long, it is though I have been gone for eternity. Nothing seems to make them happier than my safe return. And nothing makes me happier than their continual love.

This is what we get from dogs, love like God. Let's face it, God spelled backwards is dog. They have no judgment, they have a memory of around 5 minutes at max (so you are completely forgiven for yelling at them when they eat your shoe or get into the garbage), and they are totally dependent upon you for their survival.

When kids at camp would ask me if I thought animals went to heaven, I can't help by hope that Pigeon and DiDi will be there too. Obviously, their life span is much shorter than a humans, but I can't help but wish that they would be here for as long as I am. I can't imagine having a family without them, or growing old without them. They have been my constant companions for over 5 years now. That's not something easily given up. But the whites on their chins are beginning to show, and it saddens me to see that. When they were puppies and still young they would roll around the house, playing constantly. Now, older and probably a bit wiser, they sleep most of the time, chew on their bones and watch me as I do my Hebrew homework, attempting to dissuade me from working so I will give them the ever anticipated belly scratch.

I don't suggest college kids getting animals, but I don't regret mine. I don't regret the money spent on medicine and special dog food for DiDi and her sensitive stomach, or the nights that were sleepless because Pigeon had to go the the emergency room because she ate an entire bag of dog food. I don;t regret them, ever. They were a gift, and I think it would be much harder to live away from family and friends right now without them. They make it feel like home.

Pigeon snuggling with her bone.