Going to the dogs

Let me tell you about Rose and dogs. Rose LOVES dogs. She's got dogs on her brain. I would call her a dog-brain if that didn't sound so insulting. She is not allowed to own a real, live dog of her own. (Side note here -- allergies. I look at anything with four legs and fur, and I practically end up in the hospital. So no nasty messages about what a horrible mother I am, please.) She has compensated for this crushing disappointment by collecting somewhere close to 300 dogs in the various forms of stuffies, Littlest Pets, and figurines.

Her best Christmas present last year came from her uncle. Crazy Uncle Douglas gave her a compendium of all the dog breeds in the world, along with a stuffed dog, and told her to find out what breed her new dog was. Way to go, Uncle Douglas! Maybe you aren't so crazy after all! That kept her occupied for hours, and even now the book has a place of honor on her shelf and she reads it from time to time just for fun.

She lives for the two weeks a year she spends with her grandma in Oregon who a couple of years ago got a new Labradoodle. For those two weeks Rose eats, breathes, and sleeps dogs. She takes Lucy Loo on her morning walk, even though the walks take place at 6 a.m., and Rose has never gotten up that early voluntarily in her life. She takes Lucy on her evening walk. She plays fetch with her. She feeds her. She would sleep with the dog if grandma would let her. She even cleans up the dog's poop, and does it cheerfully.

I once overheard Rose talking with her friend about "her" dog. The friend piped in to say Rose doesn't have a dog. And Rose replied that yes, she does. The dog just stays at her grandma's house. I'm sure grandma would be surprised to know that Lucy isn't really her dog, it's Rose's, but I won't be jumping in that fire any time soon.

Before grandma got her dog, there was a period of time when Rose was a dog herself. She made floppy ears to wear on her head, a tail that she taped to her bottom, and she put socks over her hands to simulate paws. She asked if I would please put her food in a bowl on the floor.

But Rose has a new love in her life now.

And while you all gasp and say, "No! How can this be?" let me assure you that I am relatively certain it's temporary . . . probably. But this new love does make for a change in the conversation. I am hearing the rattling of a little box that she constantly carries with her. Ask her what she's thinking about, and she will spend fifteen minutes waxing rhapsodic about the flavor sensation that bursts in her mouth. She accosts strangers in the street and asks them to smell her fresh breath. Yes, I'm talking about Tic Tacs.

Who knew Tic Tacs could be such a revelation? I'm kind of in awe of how she can throw herself into the moment and so thoroughly enjoy . . . a Tic Tac. I would have introduced them to her years ago if I knew entertaining her could be done this cheaply.

I wonder if dogs like Tic Tacs?