Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Dward and Spot
Dward is my friend Edward. When he needed a dog in his life, Sydney and I took him to the shelter to shop. Sydney needed to approve whatever choice he made for a canine companion, since she would be spending time with the new arrival and might tear it to shreds on sight. My approval was needed since Ed's health is a crap shoot from day to day, and I would inherit any dog he came home with, just in case.
The first dog we visited with was at the same shelter Sydney had been adopted from. This was a sweet doggie, and she was not a puppy which in my mind was a big plus. But she was a heavy, heavy shedder. We happened to be browsing at the shedding time of year and she was "blowing" her coat. After sitting on the floor with this dog for five minutes, Ed was surrounded by a rug made of her fur. I turned her down. Sydney had no opinion.
At the next shelter, Sydney was asked to stay in the waiting area, since there was a touch of kennel cough running through the inmates there. I sat with her, wondering (and dreading) what Ed might bring forth from the many dogs in the pens. Not two minutes later he returned with an indescribable glow emanating from his every pore. "I found my dog. She's perfect. I found the perfect one." If you know Dward, you have some inkling of what I was going through as I waited to see what he had set his heart upon. "Just wait till you see her," he kept saying as he rocked from one foot to the other in a frenetic back-and-forth dance. I learned in a few moments that he had found a puppy. A puppy covered in dog shit.
I had to wait while they scraped her off a bit to make her somewhat presentable. When this puppy was brought out, Ed and I both held our breath. What would Sydney do to this baby? Into how many shreds would she be torn? We needn't have worried. Sydney, like most dogs, knows about babies. This little pup crawled all over Sydney, pulled her tail, nipped her ears, and Sydney posed like a Sphynx on the floor under all this indignity. We were amazed.
Ed named her Spot. Here she is the next day, at the park. That was April, 2004. Since then, Spot has become a part of the pack, and a part of our lives. Ed and I are both convinced that she saved his life, in a number of ways and on a number of occasions.
This was my first attempt at anything other than letters and numbers. Spot just had to have, well... spots. The spots weren't charted, I just made them up as I crocheted along. That explains why they are somewhat lopsided here and there.
Dward needed to have his name in two colors, to commemorate the mismatched socks he wears.
And the intertwined hearts?
You figure it out.