belonging

While our dog, like many, resists the dreaded B-A-T-H--you know,the full wet and sudsy, frantically maneuvering-to-escape-the-tub sort of woofy-wash scenario--she thoroughly enjoys other forms of grooming. Whenever I appear with her brush, she's at my feet, poised, ready, and smiling. She'll even rotate her entire body upon my indication to allow me easy access to her other side. The joy is as much in the bonding as it is in relieving the buildup of that hot, itchy, shedding undercoat. Maisie loves the soothing sponge bath that always follows as well. So long as it comes in the form of a moistened towelette, the word bath apparently lacks the demonic origins and intentions of the tub experience. The only part of this process that causes her any distress is the removal of her collar. After the brushing, after the sponge bath, she'll lift her head high and regal as if imploring her faithful servant--yours truly--to restore the royal jewels to their proper place around her neck.

Last week, her collar saw fit to remove itself. Without any pulling or pressure on it, the metal clasp simply broke beyond repair, releasing our puppy to dash about the yard au naturel. The lovely velvet collar we'd been delighted to treat her to only last summer needed replacing...and fast. Standard nylon collars are harsh against the skin, fabric collars never last, and the soft and durable, fleece-lined hemp collars we've always bought our dogs in the past are no longer available from any reliable manufacturer. Among reputable brands, choices were limited, but we did find a turquoise number that looks stunning against her reddish fur, and, though it lacks the luxurious softness of velvet or hemp, it is at least padded underneath for added comfort. Plus, unlike the velvet collar, it's from a company we know and trust, so hopefully that means the hardware doesn't harbor an affinity for spontaneous self-destruction.

And what did Maisie do Tuesday morning when she saw that brand new collar in my hand? She raced to my side, poised and ready. She lifted her head high and regal as if imploring her faithful servant--yours truly--to restore the royal jewels to their proper place around her neck. And once I'd latched that gleaming silver buckle, there was nothing that morning that could have silenced the happy prancing of paw pads or dulled the gratified grin on our girl's face.

When we tie a bandana around Maisie's neck, her behavior elevates to sheer exuberance--she knows a celebration or adventure awaits. When we secure a collar, she exhibits a more contented kind of bliss. It's not about what's to come. It's certainly not about accessorizing. For a dog once abandoned--now infinitely loved--every indication suggests it's all about belonging.