Mark Twain did say, “The more I know people the more I like my dog!” I am sure he considered this statement reasonable true for him and may I dare say me also, however, it was easier for Twain to say since his dog was probably; a very Loyal, Obedient, and without question completely subservient to him, his master. Since Twain was a highly curious intellectual, he could without a long convincing argument, maybe, just maybe, change his mind in some minor degree that all dogs are not created equal, that is if he could have met and known, Ms Rolina Robichaud, an honest to goodness Bitch and Princess, mostly from the Lhasa Apso Dog Tribe. This tale, which you are reading, by the way, is not a once upon a time story, it is an honest story, a story from a long suffering human being who is tired being trained and used by a devil. Reversing everything Pavlov did and proved with his dog, Roli became Pavlov and I her butler.
It all started out like fun. And I want you to know unequivocally it hasn’t turned out that way. (BIG LIE!) I wasn’t in the first place overly enthusiastic about getting a dog, even though I would play the pretend game where, our imaginary dog Roli would sit beside me or Margot. I would whistle and call to have her come (the her was already determined, males, so we were advised by several non-dog owner experts mark their teratority around the house and dog piss is not a favourite smell with guests); of course I envisioned this wonderful little dog, her ass end wagging her tail so hard the fur was flying off, as she with an abundance of joy leaped in a single bound onto the chesterfield next to me. Oh what a feeling! Imagination, to someone like me exceeds the boundaries set out by; you know who, they are known as them, they determine whether one is, a bit crazy or not, especially if he has an imaginary dog and is petting it. I qualify. Roli got shortened down from Rolina. Only because Roli seemed pleasurable to Margot when it rolled off her tongue, she would say; “Roli Robichaud”, (also pre-condition me for future blame) and would pop a treat in my mouth. As I think about it now, there was a mean slyness to Margot’s devious sub-conscious plan to make me into the do all and go for slave to her and the princess. In other words she was not going to be a family dog, she was going to be Margot’s dog and I would become Roli’s butler. You know? How stupid of me, I never even saw that coming. Proof that love is blind!
It all started out with me taking a firm stand and asserting in the most un-cowardly way that I could muster, chest out, shoulders squared like I was on military parade, chin firm and commanding. “It is your dog Margot and I am not going to be picking up that dog’s poop”. Come to think of it I never got a response, which was normal since I was never allowed much recognition for some of the many brilliant family ideas I had. The glaring proof of this has more than once hit me between the eyes, I never ever got a new car, Margot always weaseled and twisted my google eyed blindness to her seductive beauty and got a newer vehicle, me, poor me, I got the hand me down. Another repetitive clue to add to all the others like cleaning the whole house weekly, grass cutting, hanging the laundry, cooking my world famous dishes; (bit unfair of me, I liked doing those things) was being presented to me and I failed miserably to see what was going to be the future for me and that tyrannical canine.
I remember distinctly the exact moment Roli entered into our house and her future new home, in my ignorance about dogs I took her being scared half to death, as snobbish. She had come from a home with a single mom, two small boys. She had spent her days in a cage, she came to us completely toilet trained, shots, and as a bundle of 9 month old puppy energy. So Help me Jesus’s, she was as cute as a button, (and still is) not like all the other introductions from new dog owners on the walking trail, no, this petit chien I am speaking of snatched a part of my heart in zero seconds. Instantly, on meeting her, my mind flitted to the spot in my brain for my favourite poem “Across his face it was written; smitten!” That was me. In an instant, without thought her nickname came into my head Gadinski, I never questioned it, it was my special thing with her; she was, after all Margot’s dog, and her name was Rolina; AKA, Roli. Also, at that instance, she was now free in her house and with a long leash somewhat free in a huge back yard. Where did it start? That is; my training as Roli’s butler? It started with simple subterfuge, so smooth; it was like someone pushing me down from the top of a hill, and when trying to pick myself up and with what seemed to be dispensed with surgical precision, a sort of kicked/push on the shoulder sending me careening down the hill at sound barrier speed which had been previously slobbered with butter. A female voice spoke; “My knee hurts, would you mind taking Roli for her walk?”
Those of you, who know me, know that I am one of the most chivalrous gentlemen you could meet especially on your way to church on a Sunday morning. So, yes I leaped with joy at the chance to be of service. Well, maybe it didn’t really happen quite like the above. It was more of an imperative command and you know me, peace at all cost. I started to assemble my rain gear and made sure Roli, the princess has on the proper coat. Even then I should have known, this dog was a Diva, she already has four coats and a variety of walking harnesses complete with matching leashes. Even to this day, I cannot bring myself to believe I could fall into this trap like an innocent first grader who falls in love with his teacher for the oldest trick in the world, old PT Barnum said it best; “there is a sucker born every minute.
Like most things in life we greet the future, unaware from moment to moment what awaits us, we just move along like a fast running stream, here and there, running into obstacles as we relentlessly stumble through the day solving one minor obstruction after another. Out of those precious momentous moments which can greet us at any hour there are some absolutely wonderful or tragic events which change us as a person. Fortunately, our evolutionary joy ride, long as it has been, did not evolve us with a “Eureka” brain. If it had, we would be paralyzed with the constant awareness of miracles bombarding us with an ever swifter shifting from moment to moment reality. No we journey forward accepting what is given us and discard into the past those items which were just part of the day, tragedies and joyous occasion arrive unbidden, leaving their imprint in our minds as never to be forgotten memories. Having Roli thrust into my world I became changed from a nice sweet guy to a curmudgeon. That is not really 100 % true, Roli, with absolute unconditional fidelity love for us, turned me into a mush ball and a nicer person.
Without missing a beat the deception to convert me into Roli’s butler submerged me into a swirling pool of pleasure. I, me, of all people, who was adamant, was now doing the entire dog walking thing, which included picking up poop. Roli, on the other hand was like a kid given her freedom to a candy factory, she, as a fully blossomed princess, now a little better than one year old, was a ricocheting bullet in her attempt to smell and read the news of all the other dogs who had previously past and marked. I didn’t at first notice how joyous this all was for Roli, until! Squirrels, black squirrels, who in the thousands and thousands, well maybe not that many, who with an abundance of oak trees and bird feeders in our area, live in peace and perfect harmony with their environment. A crucial moment of awareness was presented to me when Roli began noticing squirrels; she turned from a nice little dog peeing on posts etc. into this ferocious hunter. She would stop, instantly go into a wild animal hunting crouch, head up, nose and face set like a pointer, left front paw cocked, the cocked paw moving back and forth waiting for the all clear that the squirrel was ignoring her, she takes one, maybe two cautious sneaky steps and then Wham!!! She is off like a rocket, the squirrel, had her in the corner of its eye and headed like a torpedo to the tree, me I nearly came off of my feet from the sudden powerful yank on the leash, Roli was at the bottom looking up as if in disbelief that this squirrel could escape her clutches. From that moment on I became Roli the vicious hunter’s vassal on her squirrel haunting safaris. You may think this funny, well it is not. Because she nearly yanked me off of my feet, I had to begin a new method of reacting the moment she saw a squirrel and went into the big white hunter pose, I began letting out all of the retractable leash and loosely held it until she made her run for the squirrel. Imagine my astonishment when I saw myself in my mind’s eye participating in the hunt, crunched down ready to go for the kill with this small, but deadly hunter, I stopped instantly and looked around, worried someone may have seen me, and I the role model for laisser faire dog walkers was embarrassing himself, then I thought, this is fun, they can think what they want. So, from then on, when Roli went into her instinctive hunting posture, I bravely participated in the chase, After all my job as Butler was to carry home the kill. I could just see the envy of all those other owners whose dog chases squirrels looking at us, me, with a string of squirrels hanging off my shoulder. Once we got to a neighbour who had laughed at us I would casually drop off a couple, three if he had a bird feeder. Now of course she is eight and is more refined, she only occasionally goes into the hunting pose to have that particular squirrel pass the word, “she still got it!”
Listen, I know there those of you who are wondering where the Deva comes in? Well, I would have to write a book about the gussying up to go even for a walk, face washed, clean harness, proper leash, on return, paws and private parts washed, food prepared. As warranted, a full bath, ears cleaned with a special cleaning solution, teeth inspected and brushed, on occasion and a scarf nicely tied. Trips to the vet for checkups, needles, and of course the Butler was the one who holds her majesty whilst she is treated. Oh yes, no to be forgotten, after the morning walk, I am forced to participate in a pull; growl down on the floor roll all around fight for this stuffed tiger, which is nearly as big as her, this tug of cat goes on for at least five minutes and she wins, not really, I am getting tired, so is she. Then, as part of the ritual, she comes back for a rub down, an all over massage and scratching, then when the princess has had enough she looks at me in a certain way and walks off, not even one lick in gratitude, Divas do not lower themselves to be grateful. There was, as well a change in the household, everything which needed to accommodate her Royalness was done, even to the extent of throwing out my brand spanking new box spring for my bed. It made the bed too high and she may suffer an injury jumping off, sure! This was not the only injury I had to endure, imagine, lying there reading or resting my eyes when plunk this ball of fur lands on you snuggles in and quickly falls asleep. Of course you can't move then, or you will disrupt the Divas nap; it was unbearable, so I would put myself into a deep meditative trance and suffer in silence as all great saints have previously done. The truth, however, is this little ball of fur was like a sleeping pill, instantly relaxing me into a joyous peaceful little doe doe. I still love those moments, they are indescribable pleasure. I could go on and on, I am sure you’ve got the picture.
Shortly after becoming Roli the Diva’s permanent dog walker, which included the smart ass jibes by my so called friends who would say, “Sooo your one of the old farts we see holding a dogs leash, while it is having a big dump, ha ha”. I did not think it was funny; I was just doing my job as Butler to the queen. one of the first things that began to fascinate me was , distinct from all the other antics, such as running up, dead stop, flip on her back and wriggle like a mad woman, twisting and turning, moving her paws as though she was running. For a while I thought she was self-scratching herself, no, there was something stinking there and she was with pure joy rolling on it. Of course this has to be washed off afterwards, the butler to the rescue. What was truly grabbing my attention was the number of ways Roli would mark her teratority. And some of the drastic things she did to let other canines know she had been there. First there was the female dog method, a squat, followed another time by a half squat with one back paw forward, then the standard male dog lift, either side and then the extreme, such as, it is winter, fair amount of snow around, it is a soft new snow, she comes to a huge maple tree, a favourite newsstand, it has sort of a growth pushed up knoll, she smells and sniffs from the bottom up to where she is almost vertical and can’t reach any higher, she is stretched out as vertically as far as she can go intensely sniffing as much of the tree as she can. It must have been interesting for after a cautious cat paw decent she turns around backs up and starts to move her ass end to go up the tree, again nearly vertical, she squirts and then a strange look appears on her face, “how do I get down?” Well, there is no delicate way, she tries and ends up going ass over tea kettle down the knoll, picking herself up, face full of snow looks at me with a glare, “what are you looking at”? As well, she just can’t poop on a nice level spot on the boulevard, no; it has to be hanging off of a curb, up tight to a fence, down the side of a small hill, in the deepest wood grass, or in the middle of a pile of leaves, which are the same color, forcing the butler to search for her deposit. Nearly every time it means hang off of something or twisted in some weird angle to complete the hold your nose pick up. It is one indignity after the other. Of course as any Diva would, she looks at me with an “I am finished, do your job.” These are giggle times for me.
Walking a dog has so many therapeutic benefits for anyone. The reason it may not be done by the many who own a dog is that they make assumptions that there is some sort of rules and they do not know what to do. News!! There are no rules. So get out and do it, the benefits are enormous. Exercise, which most do not get enough of, breathing brisk morning, or afternoon air, friendly social interaction with other dog walkers and good fun watching your dog delightfully enjoying themselves and for those who are mindful, moments of enlightenment. For instance, use to see this guy slowly walking a pure white average size mutt; well it wasn’t really a walk, the guy would go a few feet stop and the dog spread legged would smell the atmosphere, he would be smoking a cigar, leaving that delicious cigar smoke smell in the air that most former smokers crave to smell. I thought the gentleman was very old, and was just out in the good weather for a change. One morning, by chance we met, the guy is in his early 60s, and explains his dog is 15 and blind, but as he said “likes his walk”. Roli took to the dog like a lost friend, I congratulated him for taking his dog walking, and he just looked at me and said in matter of fact way, “He’s my son”. I was instantly in a moment of awe. Understanding and seeing with my own eyes love for another living being. Met him and his dog a week later on a side trail, a bit of salutary conversation and he with pride in his voice said; look at him, look at him, had him at the groomers yesterday got him all trimmed up, doesn’t he look great?” After a bit of conversation and Roli and his dog did their thing I left feeling humble. And felt very privileged to have met someone with a great love and compassion for his dog. There are so many moments when walking Roli that have brought me direct benefits, once in the early years, I met and made friends with the Almeida family, it was the first day of school and the baby, was off to kindergarten, his father a nervous wreck with useless worrying. Roli went instantly into her everybody loves me antics, pay attention I am a Diva. All five were charmed by Miss precious. On our walks we got to meet many of our neighbours, which otherwise we would only greet out of politeness, now it was stop, Roli instantly into her ass twisting “hey, Hey! Look at me; I’m loveable” routine, which got us to be friends with George and Corrine, with the side benefits of Corrine who loves to bake and shares. Dogs can enhance intimacy in a relationship, walking the dog is a great time to talk, providing you are not one of the righteous dog walker, dog short leashed, tight to the left side of the master, rapidly walking as if there was a mission to complete. Naw, that kind of walk requires you to be mindful of your image, where the filled with wonder wandering walk, is a stop and go thing. And for Roli all of the articles in the news of the day must be read, sometimes the Princess carries on a little longer with the editorials; it’s a slow, sharing, joyful walk, blending in with the landscape of beautiful trees and wondrous clouds crisp fresh air and the added benefit of saying hello and conversing with another dog walker. These can be precious moments, if appreciated through mindfulness. Then comes the moment where the poop pickup takes place and you have reach down with a plastic poop bag and scoop up the soft sometimes mushy feces, I am sure by now you know it is the Butler’s job.
There are all kinds of days, bad, warm, cold, and moments of sensuous pleasure. One morning around about the first of June, the lilacs had ceased blooming and their aroma though fading, lingered. There is a tree in our area often planted on the boulevard, which flowers a blossom that is much like a lilac and exudes an odor pretty similar to the perfume of a true lilac. It is about 8:30 am and like a bad movie I find myself in an atmosphere that is dank and envelopes you with what feels like a heavy shroud, it is sort of like a foggy mist and feels like a slightly soggy slimy moisture, not quite rain, kind of a shivery dampish wet, there isn’t any wind which gives you the sensation of being surrounded like you were in some weird cold sauna, Roli is reading a press release and I in a moment of mindfulness became acutely aware of being bath in this incredible fragrance flowing from the generous blossoms of the tree I was standing under, it was like I was being showered in a cocoon of sweet lilac mist. I stood there for a while absorbing the incredible smell, it was like a gift from the tree to me, it made my day.
There are countless stories from over the years that I could write about Roli and me, all of them would reflect the joy and companionship she has brought to me and Margot. Margot and Rolli were a therapy dog team, going into senior living establishments and schools, libraries to meet and listen to little ones, or challenged students read to Roli. As soon as Margot started to dress with her St John Ambulance identification clothing, Roli would take on a prancing walk, prepping for her role like a true diva. COVID changed all that. That and other events caused me to pick up more of all the necessary little jobs that come with owning a dog. I am Roli’s whole world and she mine, plus my trainer and therapist.
Me and Roli have both got a little longer in the tooth and my case I am missing a couple, which makes me less handsome than I was, which goes along with the with all the strange arthritic walk that I have adopted to avoid pain. Roli still has all of her charm and beauty, but getting out the door for a walk is not often greeted with robust enthusiasm by either of us, however, whatever else is happening we go faithfully twice daily. Usually on the late afternoon walk I will take her to a different location for a change in neighborhood news. She waits now for me to lift her into the SUV, sometimes I think she just does that to affirm her status and my role as her butler. I do my duty. On our return trip home she will occasionally from her perch between the seats give me a lick on the ear, now that is as good a reward as anyone can hope to get from a Diva.
It all started out like fun. And I want you to know unequivocally it hasn’t turned out that way. (BIG LIE!) I wasn’t in the first place overly enthusiastic about getting a dog, even though I would play the pretend game where, our imaginary dog Roli would sit beside me or Margot. I would whistle and call to have her come (the her was already determined, males, so we were advised by several non-dog owner experts mark their teratority around the house and dog piss is not a favourite smell with guests); of course I envisioned this wonderful little dog, her ass end wagging her tail so hard the fur was flying off, as she with an abundance of joy leaped in a single bound onto the chesterfield next to me. Oh what a feeling! Imagination, to someone like me exceeds the boundaries set out by; you know who, they are known as them, they determine whether one is, a bit crazy or not, especially if he has an imaginary dog and is petting it. I qualify. Roli got shortened down from Rolina. Only because Roli seemed pleasurable to Margot when it rolled off her tongue, she would say; “Roli Robichaud”, (also pre-condition me for future blame) and would pop a treat in my mouth. As I think about it now, there was a mean slyness to Margot’s devious sub-conscious plan to make me into the do all and go for slave to her and the princess. In other words she was not going to be a family dog, she was going to be Margot’s dog and I would become Roli’s butler. You know? How stupid of me, I never even saw that coming. Proof that love is blind!
It all started out with me taking a firm stand and asserting in the most un-cowardly way that I could muster, chest out, shoulders squared like I was on military parade, chin firm and commanding. “It is your dog Margot and I am not going to be picking up that dog’s poop”. Come to think of it I never got a response, which was normal since I was never allowed much recognition for some of the many brilliant family ideas I had. The glaring proof of this has more than once hit me between the eyes, I never ever got a new car, Margot always weaseled and twisted my google eyed blindness to her seductive beauty and got a newer vehicle, me, poor me, I got the hand me down. Another repetitive clue to add to all the others like cleaning the whole house weekly, grass cutting, hanging the laundry, cooking my world famous dishes; (bit unfair of me, I liked doing those things) was being presented to me and I failed miserably to see what was going to be the future for me and that tyrannical canine.
I remember distinctly the exact moment Roli entered into our house and her future new home, in my ignorance about dogs I took her being scared half to death, as snobbish. She had come from a home with a single mom, two small boys. She had spent her days in a cage, she came to us completely toilet trained, shots, and as a bundle of 9 month old puppy energy. So Help me Jesus’s, she was as cute as a button, (and still is) not like all the other introductions from new dog owners on the walking trail, no, this petit chien I am speaking of snatched a part of my heart in zero seconds. Instantly, on meeting her, my mind flitted to the spot in my brain for my favourite poem “Across his face it was written; smitten!” That was me. In an instant, without thought her nickname came into my head Gadinski, I never questioned it, it was my special thing with her; she was, after all Margot’s dog, and her name was Rolina; AKA, Roli. Also, at that instance, she was now free in her house and with a long leash somewhat free in a huge back yard. Where did it start? That is; my training as Roli’s butler? It started with simple subterfuge, so smooth; it was like someone pushing me down from the top of a hill, and when trying to pick myself up and with what seemed to be dispensed with surgical precision, a sort of kicked/push on the shoulder sending me careening down the hill at sound barrier speed which had been previously slobbered with butter. A female voice spoke; “My knee hurts, would you mind taking Roli for her walk?”
Those of you, who know me, know that I am one of the most chivalrous gentlemen you could meet especially on your way to church on a Sunday morning. So, yes I leaped with joy at the chance to be of service. Well, maybe it didn’t really happen quite like the above. It was more of an imperative command and you know me, peace at all cost. I started to assemble my rain gear and made sure Roli, the princess has on the proper coat. Even then I should have known, this dog was a Diva, she already has four coats and a variety of walking harnesses complete with matching leashes. Even to this day, I cannot bring myself to believe I could fall into this trap like an innocent first grader who falls in love with his teacher for the oldest trick in the world, old PT Barnum said it best; “there is a sucker born every minute.
Like most things in life we greet the future, unaware from moment to moment what awaits us, we just move along like a fast running stream, here and there, running into obstacles as we relentlessly stumble through the day solving one minor obstruction after another. Out of those precious momentous moments which can greet us at any hour there are some absolutely wonderful or tragic events which change us as a person. Fortunately, our evolutionary joy ride, long as it has been, did not evolve us with a “Eureka” brain. If it had, we would be paralyzed with the constant awareness of miracles bombarding us with an ever swifter shifting from moment to moment reality. No we journey forward accepting what is given us and discard into the past those items which were just part of the day, tragedies and joyous occasion arrive unbidden, leaving their imprint in our minds as never to be forgotten memories. Having Roli thrust into my world I became changed from a nice sweet guy to a curmudgeon. That is not really 100 % true, Roli, with absolute unconditional fidelity love for us, turned me into a mush ball and a nicer person.
Without missing a beat the deception to convert me into Roli’s butler submerged me into a swirling pool of pleasure. I, me, of all people, who was adamant, was now doing the entire dog walking thing, which included picking up poop. Roli, on the other hand was like a kid given her freedom to a candy factory, she, as a fully blossomed princess, now a little better than one year old, was a ricocheting bullet in her attempt to smell and read the news of all the other dogs who had previously past and marked. I didn’t at first notice how joyous this all was for Roli, until! Squirrels, black squirrels, who in the thousands and thousands, well maybe not that many, who with an abundance of oak trees and bird feeders in our area, live in peace and perfect harmony with their environment. A crucial moment of awareness was presented to me when Roli began noticing squirrels; she turned from a nice little dog peeing on posts etc. into this ferocious hunter. She would stop, instantly go into a wild animal hunting crouch, head up, nose and face set like a pointer, left front paw cocked, the cocked paw moving back and forth waiting for the all clear that the squirrel was ignoring her, she takes one, maybe two cautious sneaky steps and then Wham!!! She is off like a rocket, the squirrel, had her in the corner of its eye and headed like a torpedo to the tree, me I nearly came off of my feet from the sudden powerful yank on the leash, Roli was at the bottom looking up as if in disbelief that this squirrel could escape her clutches. From that moment on I became Roli the vicious hunter’s vassal on her squirrel haunting safaris. You may think this funny, well it is not. Because she nearly yanked me off of my feet, I had to begin a new method of reacting the moment she saw a squirrel and went into the big white hunter pose, I began letting out all of the retractable leash and loosely held it until she made her run for the squirrel. Imagine my astonishment when I saw myself in my mind’s eye participating in the hunt, crunched down ready to go for the kill with this small, but deadly hunter, I stopped instantly and looked around, worried someone may have seen me, and I the role model for laisser faire dog walkers was embarrassing himself, then I thought, this is fun, they can think what they want. So, from then on, when Roli went into her instinctive hunting posture, I bravely participated in the chase, After all my job as Butler was to carry home the kill. I could just see the envy of all those other owners whose dog chases squirrels looking at us, me, with a string of squirrels hanging off my shoulder. Once we got to a neighbour who had laughed at us I would casually drop off a couple, three if he had a bird feeder. Now of course she is eight and is more refined, she only occasionally goes into the hunting pose to have that particular squirrel pass the word, “she still got it!”
Listen, I know there those of you who are wondering where the Deva comes in? Well, I would have to write a book about the gussying up to go even for a walk, face washed, clean harness, proper leash, on return, paws and private parts washed, food prepared. As warranted, a full bath, ears cleaned with a special cleaning solution, teeth inspected and brushed, on occasion and a scarf nicely tied. Trips to the vet for checkups, needles, and of course the Butler was the one who holds her majesty whilst she is treated. Oh yes, no to be forgotten, after the morning walk, I am forced to participate in a pull; growl down on the floor roll all around fight for this stuffed tiger, which is nearly as big as her, this tug of cat goes on for at least five minutes and she wins, not really, I am getting tired, so is she. Then, as part of the ritual, she comes back for a rub down, an all over massage and scratching, then when the princess has had enough she looks at me in a certain way and walks off, not even one lick in gratitude, Divas do not lower themselves to be grateful. There was, as well a change in the household, everything which needed to accommodate her Royalness was done, even to the extent of throwing out my brand spanking new box spring for my bed. It made the bed too high and she may suffer an injury jumping off, sure! This was not the only injury I had to endure, imagine, lying there reading or resting my eyes when plunk this ball of fur lands on you snuggles in and quickly falls asleep. Of course you can't move then, or you will disrupt the Divas nap; it was unbearable, so I would put myself into a deep meditative trance and suffer in silence as all great saints have previously done. The truth, however, is this little ball of fur was like a sleeping pill, instantly relaxing me into a joyous peaceful little doe doe. I still love those moments, they are indescribable pleasure. I could go on and on, I am sure you’ve got the picture.
Shortly after becoming Roli the Diva’s permanent dog walker, which included the smart ass jibes by my so called friends who would say, “Sooo your one of the old farts we see holding a dogs leash, while it is having a big dump, ha ha”. I did not think it was funny; I was just doing my job as Butler to the queen. one of the first things that began to fascinate me was , distinct from all the other antics, such as running up, dead stop, flip on her back and wriggle like a mad woman, twisting and turning, moving her paws as though she was running. For a while I thought she was self-scratching herself, no, there was something stinking there and she was with pure joy rolling on it. Of course this has to be washed off afterwards, the butler to the rescue. What was truly grabbing my attention was the number of ways Roli would mark her teratority. And some of the drastic things she did to let other canines know she had been there. First there was the female dog method, a squat, followed another time by a half squat with one back paw forward, then the standard male dog lift, either side and then the extreme, such as, it is winter, fair amount of snow around, it is a soft new snow, she comes to a huge maple tree, a favourite newsstand, it has sort of a growth pushed up knoll, she smells and sniffs from the bottom up to where she is almost vertical and can’t reach any higher, she is stretched out as vertically as far as she can go intensely sniffing as much of the tree as she can. It must have been interesting for after a cautious cat paw decent she turns around backs up and starts to move her ass end to go up the tree, again nearly vertical, she squirts and then a strange look appears on her face, “how do I get down?” Well, there is no delicate way, she tries and ends up going ass over tea kettle down the knoll, picking herself up, face full of snow looks at me with a glare, “what are you looking at”? As well, she just can’t poop on a nice level spot on the boulevard, no; it has to be hanging off of a curb, up tight to a fence, down the side of a small hill, in the deepest wood grass, or in the middle of a pile of leaves, which are the same color, forcing the butler to search for her deposit. Nearly every time it means hang off of something or twisted in some weird angle to complete the hold your nose pick up. It is one indignity after the other. Of course as any Diva would, she looks at me with an “I am finished, do your job.” These are giggle times for me.
Walking a dog has so many therapeutic benefits for anyone. The reason it may not be done by the many who own a dog is that they make assumptions that there is some sort of rules and they do not know what to do. News!! There are no rules. So get out and do it, the benefits are enormous. Exercise, which most do not get enough of, breathing brisk morning, or afternoon air, friendly social interaction with other dog walkers and good fun watching your dog delightfully enjoying themselves and for those who are mindful, moments of enlightenment. For instance, use to see this guy slowly walking a pure white average size mutt; well it wasn’t really a walk, the guy would go a few feet stop and the dog spread legged would smell the atmosphere, he would be smoking a cigar, leaving that delicious cigar smoke smell in the air that most former smokers crave to smell. I thought the gentleman was very old, and was just out in the good weather for a change. One morning, by chance we met, the guy is in his early 60s, and explains his dog is 15 and blind, but as he said “likes his walk”. Roli took to the dog like a lost friend, I congratulated him for taking his dog walking, and he just looked at me and said in matter of fact way, “He’s my son”. I was instantly in a moment of awe. Understanding and seeing with my own eyes love for another living being. Met him and his dog a week later on a side trail, a bit of salutary conversation and he with pride in his voice said; look at him, look at him, had him at the groomers yesterday got him all trimmed up, doesn’t he look great?” After a bit of conversation and Roli and his dog did their thing I left feeling humble. And felt very privileged to have met someone with a great love and compassion for his dog. There are so many moments when walking Roli that have brought me direct benefits, once in the early years, I met and made friends with the Almeida family, it was the first day of school and the baby, was off to kindergarten, his father a nervous wreck with useless worrying. Roli went instantly into her everybody loves me antics, pay attention I am a Diva. All five were charmed by Miss precious. On our walks we got to meet many of our neighbours, which otherwise we would only greet out of politeness, now it was stop, Roli instantly into her ass twisting “hey, Hey! Look at me; I’m loveable” routine, which got us to be friends with George and Corrine, with the side benefits of Corrine who loves to bake and shares. Dogs can enhance intimacy in a relationship, walking the dog is a great time to talk, providing you are not one of the righteous dog walker, dog short leashed, tight to the left side of the master, rapidly walking as if there was a mission to complete. Naw, that kind of walk requires you to be mindful of your image, where the filled with wonder wandering walk, is a stop and go thing. And for Roli all of the articles in the news of the day must be read, sometimes the Princess carries on a little longer with the editorials; it’s a slow, sharing, joyful walk, blending in with the landscape of beautiful trees and wondrous clouds crisp fresh air and the added benefit of saying hello and conversing with another dog walker. These can be precious moments, if appreciated through mindfulness. Then comes the moment where the poop pickup takes place and you have reach down with a plastic poop bag and scoop up the soft sometimes mushy feces, I am sure by now you know it is the Butler’s job.
There are all kinds of days, bad, warm, cold, and moments of sensuous pleasure. One morning around about the first of June, the lilacs had ceased blooming and their aroma though fading, lingered. There is a tree in our area often planted on the boulevard, which flowers a blossom that is much like a lilac and exudes an odor pretty similar to the perfume of a true lilac. It is about 8:30 am and like a bad movie I find myself in an atmosphere that is dank and envelopes you with what feels like a heavy shroud, it is sort of like a foggy mist and feels like a slightly soggy slimy moisture, not quite rain, kind of a shivery dampish wet, there isn’t any wind which gives you the sensation of being surrounded like you were in some weird cold sauna, Roli is reading a press release and I in a moment of mindfulness became acutely aware of being bath in this incredible fragrance flowing from the generous blossoms of the tree I was standing under, it was like I was being showered in a cocoon of sweet lilac mist. I stood there for a while absorbing the incredible smell, it was like a gift from the tree to me, it made my day.
There are countless stories from over the years that I could write about Roli and me, all of them would reflect the joy and companionship she has brought to me and Margot. Margot and Rolli were a therapy dog team, going into senior living establishments and schools, libraries to meet and listen to little ones, or challenged students read to Roli. As soon as Margot started to dress with her St John Ambulance identification clothing, Roli would take on a prancing walk, prepping for her role like a true diva. COVID changed all that. That and other events caused me to pick up more of all the necessary little jobs that come with owning a dog. I am Roli’s whole world and she mine, plus my trainer and therapist.
Me and Roli have both got a little longer in the tooth and my case I am missing a couple, which makes me less handsome than I was, which goes along with the with all the strange arthritic walk that I have adopted to avoid pain. Roli still has all of her charm and beauty, but getting out the door for a walk is not often greeted with robust enthusiasm by either of us, however, whatever else is happening we go faithfully twice daily. Usually on the late afternoon walk I will take her to a different location for a change in neighborhood news. She waits now for me to lift her into the SUV, sometimes I think she just does that to affirm her status and my role as her butler. I do my duty. On our return trip home she will occasionally from her perch between the seats give me a lick on the ear, now that is as good a reward as anyone can hope to get from a Diva.