Center of the Universe

By Fred
There's something special about Dewey. He's all legs and ears and a wagging tail that's always wagging, even while he is eating. After just a few days he knows the routine, he knows the house, he knows the yard, he knows where and when to busy (and wags his tail about it), he sleeps through the night. He's almost perfect. Kudos to the staff at Southeastern for raising such a good and happy little puppy.

But last week I wasn't sure how Dewey would fit in with the other dogs. I was worried: what if they don't like each other? What Jam is jealous and mean? What if Willows disowns me permanently for bringing home yet another one of these? What if Dewey is homesick and sad? And could I be more like a 14-year-old girl for worrying about stuff like that?

Jam is on the floor, allowing Dewey to chew on his face.

It turns out that Jam has adopted Dewey as a brother. I've notice a change in Jam now, as if he is happy with a new sense of purpose. He plays with Dewey for a while and then comes to me and gives me a look that I haven't seen before, a kind of proud smile.

And yesterday I heard Willow barking at Dewey, I guessed, to make him go away. But when I went to investigate, I saw that her tail was wagging and her barking was to get his attention so that he would play. Very unusual. Willow just doesn't do this, especially not with new puppies.

A picture of Dewey asleep at his favorite new restaurant,
his big ears flopped in different directions.

For centuries people believed that the earth was at the center of the universe. The belief persisted longer than it should have, partly due to pride, partly to fear.

A picture of Cheryl holding Dewey, both of them smiling.

At a time like this when Cheryl is away for a few days, it would be tempting to believe that I'm at the center of the universe for these three dogs, but it isn't so. They have worked out a good relationship all on their own. I'm just the concierge.

No word yet about Coach. Hope he is doing well at school...