Good Girl


Ice cubes
Image via Wikipedia

My wife and I have a “loaner” dog.  Or maybe it would be more accurate to say Abby is a surrogate dog.  Whatever the terminology, she’s not permanent at chez Aalto and this is her final week with us before we return her to the breeder in exchange for a new puppy.  It’s kind of like a hostage situation – except friendly.  Or maybe it’s an extension of the bottle laws – turn in a bottle, get a bottle deposit back.  Turn in a big dog, get a smaller one in return.

Abby is currently calm and gazing out the window longingly, hoping for a chance to fully explore all the sounds and smells coming through our screen door.  She’s great company while I write in the morning and looks up at me expectantly while I go through the normal assortment of email and to-do lists.  Truth be told, she likes it here in the kitchen.  Food is eaten here.  People hang out here.  Ice cubes happen here.  In particular, Abby loves our fridge. 

Pavlov would probably laugh hysterically at Abby’s reaction to our fridge.  If she hears the sound of our water dispenser, her ears perk up.  If she hears the ice dispenser she goes full-blown nuts.  I have never seen a dog so enraptured with ice cubes as this dog.  As soon as the cubes come busting out of the dispenser onto the floor (sometimes by accident but mostly on purpose these days) Abby turns into the equivalent of a canine Zamboni cleaning the ice after a hockey game.  Ah the wonders of frozen water. 

I’m really going to miss this dog.  She’s been great company and truly helped fill a void for us as a family when our dog of 15 years was put to sleep in January.  Thank you Abby.  Good girl.

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