Guardian

Sixteen years later, I am living in a small house across the backyard (where all the college-aged kids in our house live before moving out. Dad calls it “The Launch Pad”). And I sleep secure each night because Sparky is outside. Sometimes sleeping on my small porch, under it, or under my house, I know he is my guardian. He also walks with me across the backyard, between the main house and mine, even if I make ten trips that day. Sparky has his silly moments too. Sometimes in a sunny afternoon, he barks for 20 minutes at a bug in the air, snapping and trying to catch it. Sometimes we run back and forth across the yard, playing with each other in our own way. My favorite times with Sparky are at night when everyone else is asleep.

During warmer weather, I’ll wait until the windows in the house have turned dark, and then sit on my steps. No matter what he’s doing, or where he’s sleeping at, Sparky always comes to me. His favorite place to stand is between my knees where I can bury my fingers in his thick cinnamon-red coat and scratch all the places that make his skin ripple in happiness. Even in this place of comfort and joy, Sparky is always on alert. He never looks at me while I am scratching, instead looking at one side of the yard, and then the other to make sure his territory is clear, and I am safe. If I stop scratching, he presses closer, begging for more. And every morning when he greets me on the steps I scratch the top of his head, and then lean down to stand forehead to head with him for a few seconds. This is our routine.

I love our little dogs, too. Scamp and Peanut brighten my life, but it’s hard to hug a little dog. I usually end up cradling them like the baby dolls I played with as a little girl. When I need a four-pawed hug, Sparky knows. I never have to ask if he has time for me, or worry about how his day might affect his reaction to my neediness. There is nothing like wrapping your arms around a dog and basking in his unconditional love.

The weather is cold now. Most nights when I go to bed, Sparky is already curled up, nose tucked beneath his bushy tail. But come spring, or a random warm day (like last week), we’ll resume our routine. And I can’t wait for it. Sparky is very active for his age, but I know he won’t always be here to sit with me. So I give myself permission to be greedy, and to soak up each moment with him that I can. And I know the next dog I choose will have four very large paw prints to fill.