My last post was prompted by a chance hearing of a song I had never heard before.  ‘Always trust your cape’ by Guy Clark awoke a memory of my son’s failed attempt at unassisted human flight.  Another video this morning helped me recall my daughter Tara’s early life with our dogs. I guess at my age these little nudges to boost memory are as welcome as…what was it now…oh yeah, ducks in May.  Tara was just about two years old at the time and very tiny for her age. I have read somewhere that, up to the age of two, children and dogs can communicate on a non-verbal level that can be quite amazing. We had two dogs at the time, a beautiful German Shepherd by name of Senta, and a Basenji named Isis. Two dogs with personalities that have as much in common as a fish and a bicycle.

Tara, at the age of almost two had developed a relationship with the Shepherd that was as close as a human and an animal can become. When she walked around the house with dog in tow, one could almost hear them talking to each other. Tara did most of the talking, while Senta grunted now and then…in approval I think. One morning something woke me early, around 6 am. Somehow, it was too quiet in the house. Usually Isis and Senta were up, chasing each other and having their first morning slurp of water. All noises I was used to as they usually helped me grab that additional 30 minutes of ‘dozing time’. Why was it so quiet in the house? Something was not right and I had to find out what was going on.

When I rounded the corner into the dining room there was the answer to my question. Tara’s mom had purchased some new dog treats the day before and had left them within Tara’s reach. I guess Senta told Tara to get them and start sharing the wealth with her. Now, unless you have had a close relationship with a German Shepherd, you may not fully understand the intelligence of these dogs. They can be very gentle, and their first instinct is always to serve us. Tara had poured some of the treats into a bowl and had seated herself between Senta’s front paws. With great enthusiasm and care she was feeding the dog, one treat at a time. “Open Senta”, Senta would open her huge mouth full of shiny white canines, Tara, delicately holding a single treat, would stick her toothpick size arm up to the elbow into Senta’s mouth, whereupon she would deposit the treat, withdraw her arm, and repeat the procedure.

Very quietly I watched for a minute or two, being careful to not surprise the dog or Tara. When I made myself known to them, the magic spell was broken. Both jumped up and ran over to greet me.

Tara was brought up with Senta and saw her as just another, if somewhat hairy, human being. When we brought her home from the hospital I showed her to Senta and Senta showed her approval by licking her tiny face. Tara’s love for dogs has never changed, but that early bond between human and animal is no longer there. The price we pay for being human. Enjoy the video.