A Golden Arrival
She stood before me-a golden bundle with melting brown eyes. Her tail traced an arc and she looked up at me. In a flash, she dived into my arms that instinctively encircled her. Love at puppy sight. Welcome to doggiedom, I told myself. I gazed at the two-month-old Golden Retriever who would share the next 14 years of my life. Bitten by the curiosity bug, she wriggled out of my arms on an exploration spree—sniffing and trying to territorialize her “home.”
Although I love animals, I never had a pet. Having a dog was a new experience. As a first time dog owner, would I be able to cope with the challenges of pet care? As if reading my thoughts, she relieved herself, creating an ever-widening puddle, while I stood paralyzed. The realities of caring for a pet overwhelmed me.
First things first, I steeled myself. Usurping naming rights from my husband, I named her “Goldie”. When the vet came over, I bombarded him with a fusillade of questions – What and how many times a day do I feed her? How do I toilet train her? Would she adjust to life in an apartment? First time jitters, he reassured me.
My rite of passage into doggie care began when the vet showed me how to leash a dog. He then initiated me into dietary requirements, vaccination schedules, and an ensemble of canine care products—brush, comb, shampoo, powder, bath gloves, and towels. Over the next few days, I came to terms with the idea of sharing personal space with another living being. Although it was not easy, I was a determined learner. My resources were the Internet, dog care books, and helpful friends who owned pets and shared their accumulated wisdom with me.
The first step was to give Goldie a sense of belonging with a niche of her own. A bathroom upgraded to a room became ‘Goldie’s den’. She moved in with the pride of a teenager who graduates to separate room status. Later when I tried to shift her to another room, she resisted and exhibited a proprietary attitude towards her room.
Goldie and I began a process of mutual discovery. I assimilated all the information I could find on Golden Retrievers in order to ‘know’ Goldie. Golden Retrievers, my sources unanimously proclaimed, were the most lovable companionable dogs.
Goldie’s behavior, however, was the antithesis of what sounded like a glib copywriter’s promotional ad for Golden Retrievers. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t predict when she would launch into one of her barking sprees or do the “job” with an insouciance I found amusing. No place was sacred for Goldie who chose to do her business wherever and whenever she chose.
Here was a live dog; with an identity and autonomy of her own; not a stuffed toy. If I had to reach out to Goldie, I needed to respect and value her rights and dignity as a living being. Praise and reprimands were the currency of our transactions. As I learned to read her body language, it was easy to understand her mysterious barks, foresee her bodily urges and be prepared for unscheduled toilet trips. Soon her body filled out with pads of puppy fat that made her even more cuddlesome. Thanks to regular baths and grooming, her coat turned golden brown with subtle color gradations like the shimmering desert sands. Every strand of hair looked as if sprinkled with gold dust. Today, Goldie is an eight-year -old happy, well-adjusted dog. Her sunny temperament is contagious. She is a stress buster and the world’s best antidepressant. My husband and I find her presence soothing after a hard day’s work. Goldie reminds me of the wisdom that there is no greater joy than that of giving oneself unconditionally. After meeting Goldie, I agree with a veterinarian’s remark, “God created dogs, and when he perfected them he created Golden Retrievers.”
