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From a dog's eye

Ruby on the move
It's been over a year since we rescued Ruby from a woman who took her in from a high-kill shelter.  This one-eyed Pomeranian has become ingrained in our life and has increasingly burrowed into the daily fabric of our household, so much so that our departures from the house now incite pure wailing from this small pup (no more than 5 pounds or 2.2 kilos!) in such a way as to create the impression that she is grappling with threats to her very existence.

But we know better.  For all the trauma she suggests she is encountering, it has become apparent that this wailing is used as a ploy to regain our attention, in the hopes that she could take the same travels as us and not stay "cooped up" in the powder room that acts as her open-air cage when we are out on extended jaunts.  When we come back, we find the house expectantly quiet, expectantly because we know it is only a matter of delayed seconds before she starts crying again.  Which does not stop, of course, until she is back in the warm embrace of her owners.

I sometimes imagine what life might be like from her viewpoint and what anxiety she must face when her care is in the hands of animals who are much bigger than she could ever grow (although her grandma tries very hard to fatten her up!); in this daydream, I lose sight of the fact that her contentment probably does not take this notion very far, as she ultimately falls fast asleep when we are around, secure in the knowledge that she is loved and will get the attention that presumably sustains her.

Of course, this is all random pondering.  From a dog's eye, it might be much simpler - the dreams of cold pavement beneath paws and a curious world awaiting discovery, with an occasional meal thrown in.  All it takes is a lot of love and a little food, and life is good.  Should that not be enough for all of us?

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