A Conversation With Merwin

Sometimes I think it might be easier if Merwin (the dog) could understand what I say. If I could just have a few minutes with him, I would tell him:

Don't you know that even though we are packing all the stuff in the house, you don't have to stay with the house. You'll come with us. Stop pacing.

I know you are sad when we walk out the door but we will always, always, always walk back in the door.

And when we do walk back in the door, we might act like we are trying to ignore you running in circles wagging your butt and squealing like a pig, but that is only because the dog trainer told us to. We actually really love it, but don't tell the dog trainer.

I know you really like squirrels and chipmunks but jumping off the 10 foot high deck to chase them gives your mom panic attacks so maybe don't do that as much.

Your cuteness can get you treats and get you out of trouble. Only with me though not with the other one (let your ears do that thing where they raise up a little bit like a shrug and tilt your head just slightly to the right and make those eyes really big, yes, that should work).

Could we figure out a way for you to tell me if you are in pain because it really hurts for me to think about you feeling pain but I know how much you love to run and sniff and chase the ball so I know you won't stop doing those things even if you are hurting. So just let me know.

Please don't ever stop tearing through the woods like a bat out of hell with your ears flopping above your head and your paws barely touching the ground. It brings us so much joy to see you happy in your element.

Thanks to Jane over at Always With Yoo for her consistently beautiful words about her own cocker spaniel, Piri. Her blog, and in particular her post today, are an inspiration for me and this place.