They are not actually an accessory, of course. They are precious and treasured family members. Growing up we always had dogs. And cats and fish and birds and my sister had a horse. But “my” first dog was a black cocker spaniel named Blackie (I was 5, okay?) and I loved him with all my heart. Sitting on the living room floor rolling the ball to him, he chased it under the couch. When I bent over to retrieve it he nipped at the same time and caught my eyelid. If I remember correctly I had about 8 stitches. It wasn’t long before Blackie disappeared one day, coincidently the same time as “my” cat, Kashmir. In hindsight, of course, I’m sure my parents found them other homes for reasons I was not privy to. But I was devastated.

Shortly thereafter my Mother adopted a copper-colored miniature poodle, Coco. Coco was adorable, but was entirely my Mother’s devoted companion. Now as an adult I know that Cocker Spaniels are extremely territorial and prone to nipping. And poodles are prone to epilepsy, which is how she eventually lost Coco. I was in high school by then, entirely self absorbed and often not home. I barely noticed Coco’s absence. And it would be years later, again in hindsight, that I would realize my Mother was never quite the same after losing her beloved Coco. She, too, was devastated.

Over the decades I’ve been blessed many lovely, lovely dogs and cats. I’ve loved them all, but not all the same. I’ve also loved the dogs and cats of other family members and friends. I’ve even fallen madly in love with a bird named Lovey. They’re like people in the way that you just have an inexplicable connection with some of them. They mean the world to you.

I’ve had three Pembroke Welsh Corgis who were really special to me. After losing the first, Christie (Arborglenn Pastel of Christie to you) and then Oliver, I would never be the same. By then I had also adopted Hariat from the Lakeshore Pembroke Welsh Corgi rescue. Her given name was Ariat, after a line of equestrian gear. She had been a working dog on a horse farm. She was 5 years old when I was blessed with her and I had her for 10 wonderful years. I had driven four hours south to pick her up from where she was being fostered and when we arrived back home, she and Oliver met nose to nose and were instant besties. It was so uncanny, I had to wonder if they had ancestors in common. It seemed as though they recognized each other.

I’ve had that happen with other animals, too. It’s unexpected and delightful when there isn’t any adjustment period. It’s as if they say, “Oh, Hi. I’m so glad you’re here.” It happened most recently with my little beagle, Odie, who I had adopted from the shelter, and a giant Maine Coon cat named Chewy. I agreed to foster Chewy for a couple of months – six years ago. Odie and Chewy were inseparable from day one. We’ve lost Hariat and then Odie in the past five years. I’m not getting over it. Maybe it was easier to cope with when I was younger and had a busy scramble life with lots of people in the house. Maybe I just didn’t have time to notice my pain as much. Now it’s just me and Chewy. I won’t challenge him in his old age by trying to introduce another animal. He is so dear. I’ve often said that he doesn’t know he’s a cat. He thinks like a dog and acts like a dog. Like my dogs before him, he follows me from room to room and doesn’t sleep soundly unless we are touching.

My life has been so enriched by the sweetness of every pet I’ve been privileged to keep and care for. They certainly bring out the best in us.

Susan’s Recommended Reading: At Home In the English Countryside Designers and Their Dogs, by Susanna Salk: https://amzn.to/3VbDOoc, Beloved Dog by Maira Kalman: https://amzn.to/3Rdt07S