A Spot of His Own...

11:28 AM Elizabeth Seckman 0 Comments

Stole this from my son...it's what he gets for asking me to proof read a school assignment. I guess this makes him a guest blogger...
Caleb age10 and Spot age 4 in 2005



            Pets are funny creatures. They cost us money and create havoc without ever helping pay a single bill. Pets are work. Take my dog for instance, when she was a puppy she pulled an entire load of laundry off the clothesline and dragged it around the yard. Most of the clothes were muddy and torn. Fifteen minutes of doggie fun rendered a load of laundry worthless. My mom threatened to get rid of her, but I knew better. No matter how bad my dog was, she wasn’t a pet, she was family.   It’s fascinating how a creature, that really is nothing but an animal, lives side by side us in our homes and becomes so important to us that we put up with all sorts of extra work and insanity.  Truly it is a mysterious and special relationship.
            My dog Spot and I share one of these relationships.  Since the day we got her, I have loved her. She is a wonderful mutt who brings nothing but joy to my life.  She has been with me loyally for eleven years.  Even when we got a cat and then a second dog, Spot still held a very special place in my heart.    No matter how tough things get or how hard life becomes, I can always rely on Spot to brighten my day when I see her.
            Spot is a Blue Tick crossed with a Rottweiler. She was supposed to be a Blue Tick and Black and Tan, but we doubt that lineage. A hound mix would have big floppy ears. Spot has little perky ears, just like the Rottweiler we saw the day we picked her up at some guy’s house in Parkersburg. She’s a big dog, about seventy-five pounds in her youth. She’s probably close to ninety now. She has a bit of an eating disorder. She has been known to nudge open cabinets and eat whole boxes of food and once ate four Easter baskets full of candy when the rabbit left them down too low. Because of her gorging, she often looks more like a bloated tick than a Blue Tick.
            She got the name Spot because she was covered in spots, or ticks, as a pup. People who weren’t familiar with Blue Ticks thought she was a new breed of Dalmatian. As she grew, her fur turned all black. She is a spotless dog named ‘Spot’.  Now that I am older, I have to admit, Spot isn’t a very pretty name for a girl, but what did my parents expect when they let a six year old boy name the puppy? But she likes her name. Call it and she’ll come running, especially if I call her from the kitchen.
            Spot was supposed to be a coon hound, but she was always more willing to chase balls and play tug of war with a rope than actually hunt. Truth be told, she’s petrified of raccoons. But my parents agree she’s worth her weight in gold. Mom always said she never had to worry about my brothers and me playing in the yard. No fool was going to come into our gate with Spot on duty. We aren’t totally sure she’d eat an intruder, but she sure sounds like it. No one has been brave enough to see if her bite really is as bad as her bark.
            Memories of Spot are some of the fondest of my childhood.  She’s getting older and I know she won’t live forever. She is a blessing and maybe a blessing is best appreciated when it can’t last forever.  So, I live every day with Spot to the fullest.  She is often the first thing I see in the morning and always the first to the door when I return home.  To me, she is more than just a dog.  She is a friend to be valued and loved.  My mother says she believes dogs are guardian angels.  They protect us with a fierce loyalty, play with us until we are run down, and, above all else, they love us no matter what happens.  I do not know if she’s right, but I do know that my dog Spot is as close to a divine being as I will ever know on this earth.


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