Jedriah. What kind of name is that for a dog? Her real name is Elsie. How do I know? One day, it just ‘came to me’ that her real name is Elsie, and when I call out ‘Elsie’, she comes to me. She's not my dog. I'm not sure that she is anyone's dog. She is the neighborhood dog. When I go out to walk teeny-tiny Pepper, the mini-dachshund with mottled black and white coloring like a harbor seal, Elsie joins us.
Sometimes she is waiting for us on the front porch. Sometimes she just catches up to us in the street. What a sight we are! The slender lady in black with the long grey-streaked hair, the tiny ‘harbor seal’ dachshund, and Elsie, a pretty big dog with black and white markings on her long fluffy coat. We are a study of black and white color combinations and the mixing of those opposites as they merge to grey.
Sometimes Elsie is so happy to see me that she runs a circle ‘round me then dashes in close for a hug. Most days, she leads the way. She decides which way we will go, whether she wants us to go north or south that day. I wonder just what goes through her mind to decide this.
I've heard that she is a good ‘bear’ dog, so I have no worries as I stroll along the Alaskan country road. I am free to relax and to smile and to gaze at the autumn trees. Many times I take photos. Little Pepper has learned the command ‘hold’ for me. That means I want her to stop for a minute, hold still and not tug on her tiny blue leash so that I can catch a photo. Sometimes she has to ‘hold’ every three or four steps. What a good girl my little harbor seal is! Elsie just watches us both and smiles.
What an incredibly serene ‘down home’ scene with a city girl in the starring role, as she simply saunters with her dogs down a country lane, but who cares about that? It is the realization that Heaven must be just like this that puts the smile on my face. And this day it caused a man in a blue truck to slow down and whistle as we spun and played in the autumn sun.