Four years ago today, Phoebe and I met; we adopted each other, and the bond grows day by day. It was a bitterly cold Friday. Phoebe left the shelter wearing a red-and-white-striped wool sweater rescued by a staffer from a heap of castoff garments. Phoebe wore that same sweater again today, a bitterly cold Wednesday. What was the fate of the dog whose sweater became Phoebe's? We'll never know. We hope that dog is still with us, safe and warm, with a spiffy new sweater and someone to love who loves that dog more than anything in the world.
Dogs who end up in shelters need more protection than sweaters, of course. So Phoebe's message today is simple: please adopt and please support the agencies that assist homeless animals. Phoebe sent her annual donation this morning. Is there a better way to celebrate our good fortune, Phoebe and I wonder, than by helping other dogs and people unite?
It's been a busy day for Phoebe. Squirrel patrol, a tennis ball rescue made daring by the weight of leaves and twigs beneath which the lost was found, and a full complement of bookshop duties. She had her naps, too, which are such appealing events that I feel reinvigorated just by being in the same room with my snoozing friend.
The forecast calls for our cold day to turn into an even colder night. Phoebe and I will bake dog biscuits. Embraced by that comforting aroma -- it ranks with chocolate and baking bread in the pantheon of classic kitchen pleasure scents -- we'll curl up with our favorite pillows and fleece throws and commune, with each other and some of the books we love best. I'll read aloud to Phoebe. She'll doze on and off and wake to ask with a sweet nuzzle for another story. She'll wear that sweater she wore out of the shelter on our bedtime walk. When I tuck her in for the night, I'll thank her, for on this special day a family was born four years ago. I’ll thank her for being my dog.
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
A Bookshop Dog's Journal: Part V
Phoebe has a suggestion for everyone who wonders what to give the dogs they love for the holidays: the simple gift of stories.
If you already read to your dog, you're on Phoebe's list of best humans ever. If you've never read to your dog, why not try it one day soon? Add it to that list of New Year's resolutions and trust your dog to keep the new bond it creates growing every time you two great friends, reader and listener, settle down for another chapter in the stories of your lives.
You've got everything you need. Your favorite cuddle venue is the ideal place to start. You'll find a few minutes to spare for a trial run, and who doesn't benefit from more private time with a pal? Worried that you'll feel silly? You can count on a dog's discretion; if you feel foolish your partner will make the foolishness just plain fun.
You can, of course, impart stories without literal reading. You already talk to your dog. So tell your dog a story, some anecdote from your youth or the mystery of this morning's missing car keys. Every dog's life can speak volumes, too, if you'll lend it your voice. Phoebe loves to hear me recount how she found Theodore, her toy lizard. And who doesn't enjoy pure fancy? Phoebe and the Carl Schurz Squirrels is an epic to which we add a fantastical chapter almost every day.
But what Phoebe prefers is formal reading. She seems to consider my books comparable to her tennis balls. We're both collectors, and we share what we cherish.
What to read? It doesn't have to be War and Peace and Puppies. Begin with the TV listings, the latest sports scores, or the kids' report cards. Aim for some of the classics of canine literature. But a page or two of that novel or memoir on your bedside table, or a holiday favorite, can get you going. One of the beauties of reading to your dog is that you can pick up any story anywhere, whenever it's convenient, and your audience will love you for it.
If you already read to your dog, you're on Phoebe's list of best humans ever. If you've never read to your dog, why not try it one day soon? Add it to that list of New Year's resolutions and trust your dog to keep the new bond it creates growing every time you two great friends, reader and listener, settle down for another chapter in the stories of your lives.
You've got everything you need. Your favorite cuddle venue is the ideal place to start. You'll find a few minutes to spare for a trial run, and who doesn't benefit from more private time with a pal? Worried that you'll feel silly? You can count on a dog's discretion; if you feel foolish your partner will make the foolishness just plain fun.
You can, of course, impart stories without literal reading. You already talk to your dog. So tell your dog a story, some anecdote from your youth or the mystery of this morning's missing car keys. Every dog's life can speak volumes, too, if you'll lend it your voice. Phoebe loves to hear me recount how she found Theodore, her toy lizard. And who doesn't enjoy pure fancy? Phoebe and the Carl Schurz Squirrels is an epic to which we add a fantastical chapter almost every day.
But what Phoebe prefers is formal reading. She seems to consider my books comparable to her tennis balls. We're both collectors, and we share what we cherish.
What to read? It doesn't have to be War and Peace and Puppies. Begin with the TV listings, the latest sports scores, or the kids' report cards. Aim for some of the classics of canine literature. But a page or two of that novel or memoir on your bedside table, or a holiday favorite, can get you going. One of the beauties of reading to your dog is that you can pick up any story anywhere, whenever it's convenient, and your audience will love you for it.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Head, a Tail, and a Spine
Books and dogs have so much in common. To start, just consider their physical form: A dog has a head, a tail, and a spine, and so does a book. That a book needs routine care may not be as obvious.
Dogs, of course, usually participate in their own care; they can all, to some extent, groom themselves. But books can't groom themselves; they need us: our intervention, our good intentions turned into actions. It was from a lifetime of caring for dogs that I learned how to take care of books. Sounds like just another chore, doesn't it? I think of it as a mission. You give the dog you love the best possible care, don't you? Learn to give the books you love a little attention, too, and they'll be better companions, whether they merely grace your shelves or curl up with you for a good read.
I know I'm not alone in equating books and dogs with happiness.
I've always been most content as a reader with a dog nestled under my arm; dogs, I believe, enhance my comprehension, and when a dog like my dear Phoebe enjoys being read to, the experiences is even more pleasant. As a writer, I've always done my best work with a dog at my feet. When I'm selling books, I'm at my most competent with a dog at my side. And when I'm cleaning and repairing a book that's had a bad accident, or suffers from age-related infirmities or neglect, it's the patience dogs have taught me that promotes a steady hand and positive results.
I think there's inspiration in books and dogs, considered as a unity, that deserves more credit. I know I rely on it daily.
In future posts (at least once a week), I'll tell you why I rely on that inspiration, with examples and ideas and dreams of a better world for books as well as dogs; practical advice on what you can do for books in your home, business, and community; and stories of the dogs with whom I've shared the realm of books. I'll report on my upcoming book (a sequel to The Care and Feeding of Books Old and New: A Simple Repair Manual for Book Lovers) and other publications. And I'll share some of Phoebe's adventures, with highlights from a bookshop staff dog's daily journal.
Next time: All About Buzet
Dogs, of course, usually participate in their own care; they can all, to some extent, groom themselves. But books can't groom themselves; they need us: our intervention, our good intentions turned into actions. It was from a lifetime of caring for dogs that I learned how to take care of books. Sounds like just another chore, doesn't it? I think of it as a mission. You give the dog you love the best possible care, don't you? Learn to give the books you love a little attention, too, and they'll be better companions, whether they merely grace your shelves or curl up with you for a good read.
I know I'm not alone in equating books and dogs with happiness.
I've always been most content as a reader with a dog nestled under my arm; dogs, I believe, enhance my comprehension, and when a dog like my dear Phoebe enjoys being read to, the experiences is even more pleasant. As a writer, I've always done my best work with a dog at my feet. When I'm selling books, I'm at my most competent with a dog at my side. And when I'm cleaning and repairing a book that's had a bad accident, or suffers from age-related infirmities or neglect, it's the patience dogs have taught me that promotes a steady hand and positive results.
I think there's inspiration in books and dogs, considered as a unity, that deserves more credit. I know I rely on it daily.
In future posts (at least once a week), I'll tell you why I rely on that inspiration, with examples and ideas and dreams of a better world for books as well as dogs; practical advice on what you can do for books in your home, business, and community; and stories of the dogs with whom I've shared the realm of books. I'll report on my upcoming book (a sequel to The Care and Feeding of Books Old and New: A Simple Repair Manual for Book Lovers) and other publications. And I'll share some of Phoebe's adventures, with highlights from a bookshop staff dog's daily journal.
Next time: All About Buzet
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
