Once upon a time, when I thought it would be a great idea to get a smaller dog for my little girl who was completely frightened of animals, we bought a Jack Russell terrier. That’s not true. She didn’t shy away from horses or cows, with huge hooves and tons of wildness in them to crush a little 3 year old. But dogs, no way. It was probably because she was knocked over a few times or beat in the face with the tail of the black Labrador we had since before she was born.
It took a few days to name our new puppy. I thought Amos was a good name, from the bible of course. And the cookies. And I had a teammate on the track team in college named Amos and to be honest it was the first time I had heard that name before. Since that time, I had learned it was a biblical name.
Oh, and the song, of course. Which is where he got his middle name. Thank you Jerry Reed.
As life happened, Amos was sent to the fenced-in back yard, we got rid of the tail whapping lab, and my daughter got over her fear of dogs. Maybe because she grew a few feet and dogs didn’t over shadow her, but at any rate, she was cured of the canine-a-phobia.
I never had a real indoor pet before. Patches was our outdoor australian shepperd that occasionally played with us and ran circles in the yard growing up. The aptly named Shep (a German shepperd) disappeared one day with no explanation. And my dad had me and my little sister load up and drag away Peaches after she ate some rat poisoning from the neigbor’s farm shed across the road. I had seen death in animals regularly, being a farm girl. It was a fact of life for us. We did, however, take care of God’s creatures with respect.
I think our horses were more endearing than any cats or dogs. Or sheep. I loathe sheep.
Now Amos was hard to house train, and having no experience I resigned to letting him stay outside unless it was freezing. Then it was to the garage. He is so smart, though. He gives high fives, spins around and around on cue, and listens very well to my commands.
The last few months I have let Amos inside more and more. He now sleeps in my room and keeps my legs warm. He eats the crumbs that endlessly fall from my children’s innocent mouths. He also still pees on my bed spread. But I’m glad I brought him in. He’s a great companion, even if I do speak non-sense to him. And yet he seems to understand me.
Of course there are times when I want him out of my mind–and space. It’s awkward going to the bathroom with him watching. I’m still paranoid he’s going to sneak into the kids room and pee on their beds, too. He eats and eats and eats. And farts. Holy hell, he stinks something awful at times. And sometimes in my face.
But he doesn’t bark unless he has to and the kids love him. Shucks. I think I love him, too.