Gone to the Dog. And When She Says GO

Now wait a minute. Those of you who once snarked that Fragments had become “all Gandy all the time” have no paws to stand on. It’s been a while. And over the intervening years since Tsuga passed three years ago December 5, my dog lover-readers have wandered off to Facebook anyway.

Meanwhile, Gandy of Goose Creek (Gandy, ostensibly the female counterpart of gander) has become the Dog of the House, her eyes ever-watching from her throne–the loveseat where Tsuga could go with permission, and now, where we might rest–with permission. The dog and I make a great napping pair, when she grants me access.

In the early months of Gandy’s tenure here I wrote often about our doubts about her long-term residence with us. We discussed giving her back to the Humane Society more than once. Needless to say, we are glad we didn’t.

She is high-maintenance, although she can endure hours of snoring from a sunny patch on the sofa. But at some point, she says ENOUGH! and begins bumping my elbows, sending my hands flying into the computer keyboard.

When the persistent barking begins, I know I might as well relent and go. And she’s right to remind me that two of my age-peer friends have suffered pulmonary emboli. (She’s a very bright and articulate animal. I told you!)

Too much sitting is bad for Gandy’s health. Too much Gandy is not great for mine, mentally –until I relent and get up and get gone with the dog.

She turned 3 the middle of October. She joined us December 18, 2012.

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fred

Fred First holds masters degrees in Vertebrate Zoology and physical therapy, and has been a biology teacher and physical therapist by profession. He moved to southwest Virginia in 1975 and to Floyd County in 1997. He maintains a daily photo-blog, broadcasts essays on the Roanoke NPR station, and contributes regular columns for the Floyd Press and Roanoke's Star Sentinel. His two non-fiction books, Slow Road Home and his recent What We Hold in Our Hands, celebrate the riches that we possess in our families and communities, our natural bounty, social capital and Appalachian cultures old and new. He has served on the Jacksonville Center Board of Directors and is newly active in the Sustain Floyd organization. He lives in northeastern Floyd County on the headwaters of the Roanoke River.

3 thoughts on “Gone to the Dog. And When She Says GO”

  1. Fred: What an adorable creature and I loved the video. We have 7 dogs, mostly rescues and “dogs rule” at our house. They sleep where they want, bark when they want usually to warn us of someone coming, let us know when it’s time to eat, but the main thing is…they show us unconditional love. What could be better than that. 🙂 A Dog Wags Its Tail With All Its Heart.

    Hugs and Wags,
    Ramona

  2. Our dog exhibits the same exact behavior when he needs some “out time.” The same voice, the same nip the finger, the same stare. I call him Allen’s personal trainer. Without his prodding, there would be far less exercising the old folks in this house.

  3. Gandy was a lovely puppy, and she is lovely as a “grown up” girl now (although probably still a puppy now and then). Spencer thinks the couch in the living room is OK for napping, but he prefers our bed and its faded old quilt.

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