That Dog Shane

Good morning.  Temperatures in paradise will push 80 degrees for the next few days.  It is time to get out and about and enjoy this weather.  It is hard to believe we are going to Christmas parties already, and Christmas concerts.  But we are.  Maybe I will begin to share my Christmas stories with you in a few days.  Today I would like to share a story about Shane. You remember Shane?  He was my dog and had been since I was thirteen. Shane was about 12 years old and he was truly set in his ways.  I was married with two children, owned my own business, and I had bought a house in the big city but in a special neighborhood.  The children even walked to school.

It was early in the morning and I was washing dishes at the kitchen sink and looking out of the window.  I had made an appointment with the postman because Shane decided he was not allowed on the porch or touching the house.  In our neighborhood we were all close enough to call and share a problem we may have without having to call anyone’s boss.  Good days, huh.  The postman arrived and I went out on the porch and Shane watched the postman and even growled when he stepped upon the porch.  I walked to Shane and patted his head with my left hand and shook the postman’s hand with my right.  The postman lifted the lid of the mailbox that was attached to the house and placed the mail in the mailbox.  Shane stood still while we chatted and I guess Shane decided he was ok and he could bring the mail because we never had any other problems receiving mail.

The morning at the kitchen window was a ritual so once again I was gazing out of the window and washing breakfast dishes.  Shane was guarding the house from the front porch as he always did when I was home.  Suddenly he went flying around the house and scraped the corner as he went.  I dried my hands, threw the towel over my shoulder and went to the back yard to find him. 

At this point I will interject that Shane had the ability to open and close the gate.  He learned to work the lock the first week we put him in the back yard.  My Mom had asked us to babysit her couple of house pups so we told her fine if they could stay in the back yard and she said that was good.  They spent a lot of time in her yard as well so we put them in the back yard with Shane. The first morning we woke to find them gone I was sure the children had forgotten to lock the gate but after the third morning of chasing pups before school and the children insisting they had not disturbed them after I locked the gate, I devised another plan.  I would stay awake and watch.  Tony's bedroom window gave me the perfect location to view the gate.  That dog Shane took his paw and opened the gate then ushered those pups out for a midnight romp. After that we locked them in Tony's fort at night because law enforcement in the city was getting strict with pet restrictions and we were expected to keep them all fenced.  People rarely leashed or walked animals on a leash in those days.

This morning when I came around the house, Shane was sitting inside the fence, gazing out at the street and I scolded him for banging the house but I went into the yard and checked his hips and legs.  He seemed fine so I told him he was acting like an old man and I returned to my dishes.  In a few minutes I looked up to see the city dog catcher in his little collection truck, slowly driving past the house.  That dog!  He knew the dog-catcher was in the neighborhood.  What a dog.  After several minutes he returned to his perch on the front porch.

That dog Shane!