Until a few months ago, I had had nothing to do with dogs, Other than feel scared of them at times. Other than not liking them sniffing at my private parts, Other than finding the barking and yapping annoying. And the smell.
So what happened when I began living with a dog? A large dog? A "menacing" dog? (Council classification)
It was actually an easy process, helped by the explanations of Paul, my partner. Step by step, I got to know Zac, a Rhodesian Ridgeback who is a beautiful colour and has this beautiful ridge of fur down his back. He's nine years old. He didn't jump up at me and he didn't bark at me.
Now, he follows me around, keeping an eye on me, sitting so close he touches my leg when people come. How protective would he be, I wonder?
He joins me when I go to feed the chooks, and explores up the hill behind while I am busy there and races down when I return from them. And races on ahead coming to a sudden stop when he realises he is way ahead of me. Unless he is keen to get inside to the fire or his breakfast, in which case he carries on at speed.
He walks with me up the steep hill on our property, stopping when I do, detouring, exploring and rejoining me.
He likes to come with me to the orchard and sits, looking expectantly at me, wanting me to throw him a bite of an apple, pear, plum or peach.
He lies in the sun while I garden and if I sit for a rest, he immediately gets up, comes over and gives me a lick before sitting down close enough for me to pat him, or lean on him.
He lies beside me if I am working on the computer and occasionally gets up and come and pushes his face under my arm.
He has a sweet tooth, just like Paul - he likes a piece of toast with honey, or a biscuit, or cake, and loves to lick clean the empty yoghurt container.
He has expanded my understanding of life and I am very grateful for this and for having him a part of my life. A friend indeed. Unconditional love.
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