…when you have to go there, they have to take you in. – Robert Frost
Poor Ghost is having another of his little crises.
This weekend Landlady and Ian were up. Landlady left yesterday, and Ian remained. But because Landlady is going to be traveling for the next several days, Ian kept Landlady’s dog Dharma with him.
Ghost found this very confusing.
Ghost is a smart dog, for a dog. But dogs are not deeply analytical creatures. The presence of Dharma should have meant that Landlady was also present, and Ghost wanted to be where she was – as long as it didn’t involve going back to the city. Ghost used to be Landlady’s dog, and he still loves her dearly. But he lived every minute of his life in the desert, and can’t bear life in a town. He would have enjoyed the car ride, and then become a complete drama queen when the ride didn’t end back in the desert. It’s been tried. That’s how I came to be his nanny in the first place.
But I digress. Point is, if Dharma was there at Ian’s place then Landlady must also be around somewhere, and he was prepared to wait. He refused to come home all yesterday afternoon until after chicken-feeding, when he succumbed to the temptation of a Jeep ride and food. This morning he hung around the Lair as usual – until he detected Dharma. Then he was off like a shot and I didn’t see him for hours. He only now came whining back, with every eloquent sign of ennui and angst, and is now sulking in the desk’s kneehole. For an old dog he can be such a … teenager.
I have a couple more days in which to put up with this. I do like to think I’m mature enough not to let my feelings be hurt by a marginally-loyal dog, reminding myself that Ghost is in fact extremely loyal – just not to me. Technically this is his home, according to the definition above. But at times like this, it’s not the home he wants.
Yer never done being a parent. Regardless of the species involved.
There’s loyalty, and then there is shifting loyalty… not to be confused with mixed loyalty.
When I was first married, my husband came with a dog – the half rottie/half labrador I’ve mentioned before. Within a week or two, my husband no longer had a dog. Mark became my abject and willing slave. He was still very friendly with the man, but he was no longer HIS dog. Three years later, the first boy was born and it only took a month or so for that old dog to change his basic loyalty once more… He was Scott’s dog by then, not mine – and remained so for the rest of his life – not living long enough to be faced with the addition of the second boy. The old guy would have fought to the death, I’m sure, to protect any one of us, but his day to day loyalty was very different than most dogs.
Robert Frost was wrong.
About a great many things, no doubt. But I always did think that quote was clever, even though I have never personally encountered such a place.
Joel, perhaps you’re in “that place” now.
😉