Sunday, January 30, 2011
Willow and Kona
Here is my post for the Writing Buddie Blogs Carnival!
Quite often, when I am writing or sewing, I realize I have company. Willow has come into the room-quieter than snowflakes falling on snow. She is a subtle girl. She walks on whispering feet; showing up without a sound.
We love her. That goes without saying-but it wasn’t a love that happened over night. We got her when she was a year and a half old. She was utterly and totally wild; not knowing what it meant to have the security and love of a forever home. She had been a street dog-then a shelter dog-then an adopted, but quickly unwanted dog. She was a mutt-a mix of random ingredients. She was offered free to any home willing to take her. We were her last hope. Those first few years we had our doubts, though, about the wisdom of our decision. But not any more.
While Willow sometimes gives the impression of being a little slow off the mark, nothing could not be further from the truth. She knows that the sofa is a much more comfortable place to sleep at night than a dog bed-but she also knows that it’s best to wait until the house is dark and quiet before she relocates herself. She just hasn’t figured out a way to hide the dog hair she leaves behind on the cushions.
She also knows to keep here eyes peeled on the kitchen floor when any sort of cooking is going on. She has learned that sooner or later-something good to eat will end up there, and it’s best to be first in line.
Though Willow doesn’t show much interest in dog toys-(we don’t think she learned to play as a puppy)-there are exceptions—she relishes the ones purloined from Kona- when Kona is not watching.
Willow is the salt in our lives-adding just the right amount of dependable flavor-nothing too fancy, but still really good- for nearly 14 years now. Willow turns 15 in May.
And then there is Kona.
If Willow is the salt, Kona is the pepper.
There is NOTHING subtle about Kona. And what you see is pretty much what you get. When Kona comes into a room-everyone knows it. Kona is not a dog who will settle for sitting quietly at someone’s feet-she makes sure she is noticed- with licks, nibbles and a friendly tap of her paw. She is brash, impulsive, incautious. She thinks nothing of leaping down the last half of a flight of stairs, or racing across an icy expanse of pavement. She is about as hard to miss as a meteor landing on a tin roof.
Kona was not free-but at 25 bucks she was a darn good deal. She was part of a litter of puppies that weren’t exactly unplanned-they just didn’t turn out to be the purebred Border Collies that some of the parties involved were expecting. (It seems that Kona’s mother was an Australian Shepherd-there was a little bit of miscommunication.) Last May, when we first saw 7 week old Kona, it was love at first sight.
When I am writing or sewing, I know when Kona has decided to keep me company- she comes barreling into my presence-ready to claim any discarded scrap of fabric or piece of paper, which instantly becomes her favorite new plaything. She is funny that way-and doesn’t care about expensive toys. Her toy basket is mostly filled with bits of old socks and rags.
Kona smiles, and does somersaults for fun. She chases birds and chases her tail. (I wonder when she’ll figure out that she doesn’t have one.) Hopefully she will be our companion for years to come. In the meantime, Willow is trying to come to terms with the fact that her twilight years are not going to be as peaceful as she might have hoped they would be-but she’s having fun trying to keep up with (and outwit) a dog who is a fraction of her age, and twice her size. Willow and Kona. Salt and Pepper.
Life would sure be bland without them.