Dog Guard

Charlie had some cognitive issues that came with age and potential dementia.  At times he would get lost in the house, stuck in corners, cords, furniture and even the water bowl.  He was at his best during the day and when outside, he stuck close to the house.  Usually…

And then we lost him.  A cognitively impaired, fully deaf, partially blind dachshund.  The Englishman grabbed a flashlight and pushed his feet into an old pair of sneakers.  “He’s not in the street” he called to me.  We searched the bushes, straining to hear Charlie in the early morning darkness.  Even the birds were not awake.  Operation Find Charlie moved to the back yard.  I gingerly poked the foliage trying not to walk into spider webs. 

“I see him!” shouted the Englishman.  A small brown dog was teetering on the edge of our pond.  And then the dog disappeared.  The Englishman sprinted, Bay Watch style, and jumped into the pond. 

“I saved him just before he went under!” The Englishman declared.

He emerged with the flashlight in one hand and a sopping wet Charlie tucked under his arm.  Charlie’s paws were still rapidly paddling.  The Englishman ran toward the house instructing me to “get a dog towel”.  The shower spray rapidly warmed and he jumped into it with the shivering dog.  I could hear him talking to Charlie and apologizing for not getting him as clean as possible.  The warm and dripping dog was handed to me and I wrapped him in his towel before gently blowing him dry.

At some point in our journey with our four legged companions roles became reversed.  What once was a great guard dog now needed a Dog Guard.  And it seemed that this morning, that title belonged to The Englishman.