I am still recovering from my all-out gardening marathon this weekend. Ripping out overgrown ivy and green growth like we get here in the Pacific Northwest, all to make a lovely little space for a small flower and herb garden. The new garden spot is right next to a Rainier cherry tree and I'm planning to add a stone path to separate the planting beds. All that strenuous trimming and clearing that made me think about my pioneer ancestor's homesteading efforts. My dogs stayed nearby, acting like they were not sure what to do. It was seemed like they thought they ought to pitch in and help, so they ate grass for awhile, and stood around to keep me company.

Dogs seem to want to involve themselves when you're working outside. Many years ago I had a German Shepherd who watched us gather driftwood at the beach for a campfire. Ever after he'd bring whatever pieces of wood he could find in the yard, sometimes even snapping off branches of shrubs. A Border Collie we had long ago used to eat blackberries off of the bushes we were picking them from. I can't think of what useful thing a dog could do in the garden, but I'm happy if mine just stay around. Not amble away into the neighbor's yard, like the poodles tend to do. The elderly man who lives next door is one of their favorite folks, and he always delights them by saying their names. (It doesn't take much to delight those two.) Much more interesting than watching me yank out another wheelbarrow full of errant ivy. What do your dogs do while you work in the yard?

When you work at home dogs somehow just find their way into the organization. Our Aussie considers himself something of an onsite supervisor. When product is delivered he uses his deepest bark to scare off the guy in the brown uniform. (Works every time, the man seems to just light out for the truck the minute he drops off the box on the front porch.) Of course, the Aussie is getting too old to bother to go down the stairs to really investigate. He’s at that age when he figures a bark from him should be all it takes. The poodles lie around while I wrap packages. They have their own cushy beds in the ebay room. Once in a great while they get the unexpected surprise of a new toy. (Quality control toy testers that they are.) Then when it is time to load things up and go to the post office, they are right there, eager and anxious to get everything safely out to the customers. I cannot imagine what it would be like to work at home with no dog staff. Fortunately, I don’t even have to think about it. One of the great things about having an online business is being home all day with my dogs. Now if I could just teach them to print out the shipping labels…

I was in the city last Saturday for an appointment, and on my way out of the building found the streets lined with people. A few flags and lots of green told me what was about to begin. Well, who can resist a rollicking St. Patrick’s Day parade? I decided to take the time to stay and enjoy it. So many pipe and drum bands, several Irish dancing schools represented by step-dancing kids in costumes, enthusiastic green-clad participants from various organizations, and dogs!

With the exception of the single Dachshund wearing lots of green, all the other dogs were fine Irish breeds, representing their proud heritage with great spirit. There was a Glen of Imaal Terrier and a Soft-Coated Wheaten Terrier, and groups of Irish Setters, Red and White Irish Setters (new breed to me), and an impressive bunch of courtly Irish Wolfhounds, all walking with their breed organizations. Dogs in green derbies, scarves, and t-shirts - such a delightful surprise.

So Saturday turned out to be quite an Irish treat. Nothing scientific, but there did seem to be a similarity between the prancing moves of the Irish Setters and the high-stepping Irish dancers, but then again they may have all just been caught up in the happy spirit of the day, the drums, and the cheering crowd. Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone!

Dogs generally seem to love riding in cars. I guess it is that “we’re all in this together” pack instinct that makes it so special. There seem to be a lot of ways to enjoy motoring with the family, from what I’ve observed of dogs in cars. Sometimes I see dogs sitting on the seat next to the driver, serious and matter-of-fact as any passenger. In fact, there are stories of some dogs being counted as commuters by folks who monitor HOV lanes. Of course, all bets are off if said passenger has a nose out the window, ears flapping in the breeze. Drive-thru bank employees have learned to hand out dog biscuits for the ride-alongs as an inexpensive way to make points with their customers. I have to say, we appreciate it. Tall dogs sometimes stand in the cargo area, like occupants of horse trailers or city commuters, calm and businesslike. Some dogs look out the window, while others are so peacefully asleep that we don’t even know they’re there.

Our own dogs all have their own preferred seats in the car, and much like our children before them, often squabble over small delineations of space. One poodle recently graduated from the cargo area to the second seat. This high-status move was not lost on her pack-mates. Like an elderly lady settling into a city taxi, she accepts her lift onto the seat with grace and dignity. The other poodle still leaps into the back of the car on her own steam, and watches with envy from a perch on the wheel well. The Aussie takes up his own space in back, probably feeling like he’s in just the right position at the rear of the group to keep us all herded into place.

Dogs in cars. The lucky ones get their own plain hamburger at the fast food: plain hamburger, hold the bun. Some dogs practice charging passersby from the safety of a locked car in a supermarket parking lot. My favorite is probably the little white poodle that I saw seated in the front seat next to his owner, who saw our car of dogs and smiled. She then held her dog up to the window, grasped his paw in her hand, and waved.  

Just as there are vintage clothing styles, so are there vintage dogs. Or should I say, were. Thinking back to the dogs that were popular in the US during the 50s and 60s, the breeds that you saw in every neighborhood seem as familiar as beehive hairdos, saddle shoes, and Peter Pan collars: recognizable, yet quaint.  Today we have our designer mixed-breeds and recently imported rare breeds, and the look of the neighborhood dog has changed. Like looking back at the black and white photos of our parents in their shoulder-padded suits and youthful faces, those of us who grew up with Beautiful Joe and Rin Tin Tin, can indulge in a little nostalgic review of the dogs that shared our early days.

The Fox Terrier was a fixture in the 40’s and the Pekingese was a curious pet. The Fox Terriers may have been the Rat Terrier strain, and versions of these dogs were often called Trixie, Tippy, or other chipper, snappy names that suggested the breed’s upbeat outlook, high energy, and dapper black-and-white coloring. Somewhere after the war when folks were settling into suburbia in vast numbers, the Cocker Spaniel became one of America’s favorite dogs. Honey-colored or black, the Cocker was a favorite family dog, known for a sweet disposition and feathery-eared charm. Wiggly and friendly, the Cocker Spaniel of the 50s was even featured in the popular Dick and Jane reading books, the first literacy texts back in the day. Their names were as homey and simple as their personalities, Cinders, Honey, or Missy.

The Collie, today’s full-coated show Collie, was regarded as a kind of wise family mascot and guardian, much like the popular Lassie series of books and television shows depicted them. The German Shepherd rose to popularity around the same time, often called the German Police Dog in its early years. Big dogs like these often had names derived from royalty: Prince, King, and Duchess were favorites. The dapper Dachshund, playful Boxer, and many other breeds had their share of loyal fans as well. Not to dismiss the “Heinz 47” mixed breeds that were, as always, delightfully unique.

Between the 50s and 60s the poodle arrived and still represents the era, trimmed in a Dutch clip, immortalized on a circle skirt that probably danced to some 45 r.p.m. records. The French background of the poodles was part of their persona, called “French Poodles” in the beginning, and this carried over into their given names: Fifi, Pierre, and whatever else suggested a somewhat effete and stylish French influence, somewhat amused by its own affectations. The joie de vivre and fabled poodle intelligence ensured them a permanent place in the American dogscape.

Of course, we each have our own precious collection of memorable dogs. The vintage dogs we remember are the ones that shared our homes and childhoods. Like Elvis and Lucy, they live on in memory of a day that seems hopeful, and rich in innocence. Trixie, Tippy, King, and Honey, we remember you well.