I pulled this article from Yahoo News this morning.

Dogs helping injured soldiers under gov’t program.

So you all know about my Riley Roo. Mumblesmom and I have shared some stories with you in previous posts. This time I want to tell you an epic tale about my loveable black lab that exemplifies the personality of this spoiled but amazing pup.  Now I know what some of you are thinking. Suddenly images of the TV show “Lassie” come to mind. You can probably picture scenes from the show where Lassie barks and a character on the show says something like “What’s that Lassie? Timmy is stuck in the abandoned mine shaft you say? Let’s go save him!” Ok the show was hokey, but for all of us in the 40-something age bracket, you probably loved the show as much as I did and begged your parents for a Rough Collie. So this story is of the “Lassie” variety, but the difference is this one is all true.

The winter before last Riley went to work with his dad (his master, not his sire). He was on a construction site at the edge of a lake. He had been going daily to this job and enjoyed sliding around the frozen lake and playing in the surrounding woods. His usual custom was to run around outside for about half an hour and then go back inside and nap near the heater. On this particular day Riley was gone for a little longer than usual. His Dad, getting a little worried, walked outside to look for our wayward dog. From the deck he could see Riley far out on the ice tugging at something on what appeared to be the surface of the lake.  He called and whistled but Riley would not come. Instead Riley began barking frantically (remember from previous posts, this is the dog that rarely barks). No matter how much Dale called, Riley refused to budge and instead continud to alternate between barking and struggling with something. 

Dale, realizing that Riley was not gong to follow command walked out on the ice. The closer he got to Riley, the more frantic Riley got, whining and barking. When Dale reached him he saw that there was another dog soaking wet and hanging over the edge of a hole in the ice.  This mystery dog in trouble was barely breathing, soaking wet and had ice crystals forming on his fur. Dale was able to get the other dog the rest of the way out of the water and carried him off the ice and to the house he was remodeling. He toweled the dog down trying to warm him and increase the poor pooch’s circulation. Riley was whining and crying the entire time. Once Dale was certain that the dog’s breathing was becoming stronger he laid him on the floor near a portable heater in a pile of blankets. As soon as Riley could reach his new friend he calmed down and laid himself across the other dog in what appeared to be an attempt to get him warm. Luckily this particular dog was wearing a collar with tags that included a phone number. Dale was able to reach the owners who were greatly relieved to hear that their precious pet, who had been missing for a few hours, was diabetic and blind, had been found. Riley did not leave this dog’s side until the owners came to retrieve him.

He then slept soundly for the remainder of the day.

Ok. I know Riley is a dog, but I must say, when Dale related this to me at the end of the day, I felt like a proud parent. I do love my dog, but I still don’t kiss him on the lips.

If you have any stories you want to share about your pet I would love to read them!

Ok, I admit it, I don’t think of my dog as a canine. I think of him as a person. To me he is another one of my children. MumblesMom introduced you to my little guy, Riley Roo, earlier this year.

Much to the chagrin of my significant other I let my black lab sleep on the couches or wherever he is inclined to lay his head at any moment. (If you interpreted this as “she lets him sleep on the bed” you are correct.) I allow this even though I spend a fortune every few months having my furniture professionally steamed cleaned. I just don’t think that because he is a dog, and sometimes stinky in a way that only dogs can be, he should be relegated to the floor. I don’t understand why his comfort should be considered less important than mine or anyone else’s. My conscious mind knows that he is a dog, but my heart says something different.

Riley looks at me when I talk to him. Yes, I talk to my dog. He cocks his head to the side as though he is thinking about what I am saying and I swear he answers me. He rarely barks, but he makes a string of noises in response to my words. When I am having a bad day, he senses it and he will rub his head against my hand. His eyes take on a soulful look as if he is offering sympathy.

I find myself trying to interpret his doggy dreams. You dog owners know what I am talking about. Legs moving as if they are running, little whimpers or growls escaping from their throat, eyes twitching. I wonder if he is running with the other dogs in the neighborhood or chasing a squirrel.

I find a ridiculous amount of pleasure watching him play with his bone (He flings it around, then “stalks” it as if it’s prey.) Riley can bring the whole house to fits or laughter to the point of tears when he gets a hold of a simple cardboard box. He gets his head stuck in it, shakes it off and throws it around, then tears it apart.  The night he found bubble wrap was particularly hilarious. He would step on it and then look around trying to understand where the popping sounds were coming from. This provided us all 20 minutes of side-splitting laughter.

Although I don’t carry pictures of him in my wallet, I do occasionally forward emails of his pictures to friends and family. To all of you who have received such emails, I hope you don’t mind.

So I love my dog. I find comfort and humor having him in our home.
I do draw the line at one thing.

I do not kiss my dog on the lips.

Dog-themed Gifts at Whales & Friends