In Dogs I Trust

Years ago, when I worked at a long term care facility for the mentally ill, I had a patient who had severe bipolar disorder. Lorraine was sometimes severely depressed--sitting in a dark room peeling the paint off the wall--sometimes violently paranoid--restrained in a chair or a bed with locked leather restraints--and sometimes thoroughly delightful. I loved Lorraine. There was a time in Lorraine's cycle when she was just entering mania, when she was funny and sweet and sharp. I would get off the elevator at 11pm, and Lorraine would be sitting in the nurses station with her nightgown hitched up like a short skirt, her long legs crossed at the knee, and a cigarette dangling from her fingers like a wild, liquored up Lauren Bacall. "There she is!" She'd shout, "My little girl! My little darling!" And then an aside in a lower voice, "She's queer for dogs, you know."

I am, you know.

I know it seems silly to non-dog lovers, but dogs fill a primal need in my life. They are unconditional acceptance, consistent love, instant forgiveness, constant companions, and a presence of pure joy. What is not to love?

I know I'm not alone in this. When I studied Proto Indo-European linguistics, we talked about how the earliest Indo-European graves contain dogs and people buried together--companions in the afterlife. The history of humanity is the history of the dog.

And when my story is told, it will be the story of many dogs. Right now my story is the story of three dogs.

Yesterday was Dinah the yellow dog's 11th birthday. Since the doggies function as the court jesters in Casa de Jensen, I celebrate April first as the Day of the Dogs.

Dinah 11

As you can see by the eyes, Dinah is a sweet, sweet girl. She was a goofy puppy for the first six years of her life-- a slightly better behaved Marly. Once, when I was ill and she was bored, she ate my juice glass. Yes. She. ate. glass. We took her to the vet to be observed, and she became a legend at the clinic. Now an older and wiser doggie, she is still playful but much calmer.

Alice 13(ish)

Alice is the bipolar pup. She is quiet and sweet and loving. As long as you're not a cat. She has an advanced hunting instinct, and a compulsive need to chase cats. She has caught a few and even killed one, so I try to keep kitties far away from her.

Bess 7 mo.

And Bessie is just pure joy. While her puppy exuberance is sometimes a bit destructive, It is like taking a shot of happiness to watch her play.