Skip to content

The house that dogs loved

Once upon a time, there was a house. It was not that old, but not that young, either. It was a house that someone loved and took care of, then sold.  It became the home of a busy couple, and then the couple was joined by two wonderful dogs.  The dogs loved the home more than the couple because it was where they were loved, and because the couple was busy, the dogs spent a lot of time there by themselves.  They barked and ran and jumped and played. They snoozed. They rolled in the leaves.  They kept the family safe by providing Dogland Security 24/7.  They destroyed doors by scratching whenever they were excited, and they were excited a lot.  They raced around and pulled baseboard radiator covers off.  They made holes in walls.  They sniffed windows so often, the windows became opaque.  They loved that house.  Eventually, they aged, and so changes were made to the house so they could stay there. Carpets were put on the stairs so no one fell down.  A bed was moved into the kitchen when the stairs proved to be too difficult. A ramp was put in to make it easy to go outdoors.  Throw rugs were laid everywhere so when one of them fell, they could get traction on the wooden floors.  And, as it happens with every good dog, they made those last awful trips from their beloved home, and the couple was alone in the house.

Everywhere the couple looked, there were reminders of the dogs who were loved more than the house.  The doorway to the basement with the plaster carved by happy paws.  The windows with their snoot marks.  Even the stained floors were constant reminders of how much the dogs were loved.  Leaving the reminders seemed a way of keeping the dogs close, even though there were no more moments of sheer doggy joy.  No more leaping, no more barking, no more slurpy dog kisses.  No more springer wrestling.

Finally, it was time to change the house to get it ready for someone else to love, maybe not now, but soon. But to do that was to erase the signs of the dogs — to paint over the hallway that was worn at springer height, to replace the carpet, to fix the doors, and repair the baseboards.  It had to be done.  The house needed to be loved again, taken care of the way the dogs had been.  One last forgotten dog biscuit found in a shoe.