Puppy love

GOLDFINGER

 

All I do is snap my fingers and at a full run, he responds, almost knocks me over. I fall on my back. Before I can turn over, his body covers mine and his polka dotted tongue slurps my face. Half heartedly I try to stand but Goldfinger's prisoner. Smart, so smart, he rolls off of me just far enough so he can be on his back. All four of his legs go up in the air and he reminds me of an upside down old kitchen chair. A little moan of anticipation make me smile. I rub his belly, rub and rub. He purrs with pleasure like a cat.  I do believe he is in ecstacy. His beautiful long, soft tail waves, slaps rhythmically  against the floor. I am his prisoner and he knows it.

 

'Vera, are you fixing Goldie's breakfast?' No answer. Before she can even whistle a 'yes' Goldfinger is in the kitchen, at his dish near the door and he is eating on his kibble, mixed with lo fat cottage cheese. His breakfast disappears in an instant. His water dish turns over and spills on the floor. Good housekeeper that he is, he laps it all up and Vera fills it again with fresh water.

 

On Saturdays Vera spends the day tending her beautiful garden. She does have a tendency to forget the world is turning churning so I give her room to enjoy without bothering her. I feed Goldfinger who usually paces around the kitchen island after breakfast, waiting to run outside. Today Vera has left the door open so she can hear the phone. Whish, woof, woof, Goldfinger runs out the door, right past her as if he sees a huge marrow bone hanging from the sky. 'Stop, Stop, Goldginger, stop,' she yells but our beautiful dog heeds her not and disappears in a second. There is no way I could not have not heard the commotion. I run out like a man possessed. I look in every direction, snap my fingers, try to whistle with no saliva in my throat.

 

 

 

'Vera, get in the car, quick! Stay calm. We'll find him.' The argument starts. I tell Vera she should have locked the door. She tells me he was in the house with me and I should have locked the door. I slow down, park. 'Lets both walk the alleys, look in every yard, ask whoever we see.' ''Here, Goldie, Here, Here, Goldie. Here's a treat.' He doesn't come. Nobody has seen a dog running loose. I call the pound and report him missing, offer a $100 reward.. 'He's a good dog, never bit anyone, has never run away before. I give a full description of him any how to contact us and am too downhearted to believe in miracles. Goldfinger is gone.

 

A week, two go by. No sign of Goldfinger. Our ads in the Buffalo Browser are for naught. Vera and I keep driving the area, asking strangers for help. On day eighteen a call comes in from a Mr. Frankel. He says, 'It is possible your treasured dog is with us. He jumped over our picket fence, into our yard almost three weeks ago and refuses to leave. He stays close to our golden retriever, sleeps right next to her.' Mr. Frankel continues, 'It just may be possible our Silver Star is pregnant.' In astonishment, I drop the phone, retrieve it and tell Mr. Frankel that Goldfinger was spayed when he was a pup so I doubt that our dog can be a father but, but my wife and I will come over at once, if that is convenient.

 

Vera and I drive five miles to a gated community where we are have been called in. I drive in circles until I find 5526 Diamond Lane. We pull into the quiet drive, open the car doors and hear a very familiar loud barking, are absolutely sure at once that Goldfinger recognizes our car sound. Mr. Frankel let's go of the dog's leash and Goldie runs at me, knocks me over onto the velvety lawn, gets on top of me and licks the sweat off my face.

 

The result is four happy humans, two dogs that may soon be 4, 5 or possibly 6. We are stymied don't know what to do. Goldfinger howls a few bars and follows Vera and me to our car. I turn, offer to pay the Frankels for the care they have taken of our dog but they accept nothing. Everything goes back the way it was. Before 'the urge' grabbed Goldfinger except there is now a higher fence around our yard, plus an electrified underground quick zap that scares dogs away.

 

Our kitchen door no longer stays open when Vera works on her beloved garden and I play with the cutest tan, crazy mixed-up pup in the world.