A Grrrl's Best Friend

When we moved to Belgium , we placed our silky terrier, Duncan , in a new home. He weighed only 10 pounds but carried an enormous amount of energy and spunk in his tiny frame. Duncan looked like a teddy bear but acted like a grizzly—he was fiercely protective of home and hearth and thoroughly devoted to me.

Duncan would bark at anything that moved on the street outside the house. He spent a lot of his time on patrol, with his two front legs propped up on the fence or the window as he scanned the environment for threats. His short tail would be straight up like an antenna, his back arched a bit, and his rear legs propelling him straight up and down as he barked at all his suburban enemies: moms pushing strollers, kids walking to the bus stop, families bicycling to the pool, utility workers searching for an underground line, or his most reviled opponents—other dogs!

Duncan had attitude and confidence completely out of sync with his diminutive proportions. If a Rottweiler wandered into his turf, Duncan would charge with teeth bared. He clearly thought the best defense was a good offense. He never backed down and he never let sleeping dogs lie—unless he was the sleeping dog, If he finagled his way onto a bed upstairs, he’d put up a fight if I tried to remove him. The barking and drama, his willingness to use those tiny little teeth to make a point—it made me crazy! And so while a part of me enjoys living in a house where the doorbell can ring and not cause pandemonium, I miss Duncan .

Every morning when I go walking, I encounter a steady stream of people walking their dogs and I remember the sturdy little guy that used to tug on the leash in Virginia . With or without a leash, Duncan was at my heels all day, staring up from the floor with those lively brown eyes and sweet little face. “Look at me! Play with me! Pet me! Toss me a bone!” Duncan ’s need for attention was not unlike a toddler’s. I could not go to the bathroom without Duncan , and he seemed perpetually peeved that I didn’t always accompany him outside when he needed to go.

Sometimes I felt smothered, but mostly I felt loved. Like the sun and the planets, Duncan never faltered. He protected me from the vacuum cleaner and other threatening power tools, he nipped at Eric’s legs to remind him who the Alpha Male in the house was, he reined in the kids when they got out of hand, and he peed on the bed so I’d never be without his scent, the ultimate sign of devotion. OK, some things I could do without—but every Grrrl needs a friend who is on call 24/7, and Duncan was that to me. Ever ready, ever faithful, the world’s smallest therapist and body guard.

© 2005 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved.

October 5, 2005