Thursday, December 23, 2010


Elvis is a joy in my life, my constant companion, best friend, and the finest gift I've ever received. We're together all day everyday. He was two and I was living on Camano Island when EGRR gave him to me. He didn't know his own name, couldn't climb stairs or walk on a leash, had no idea that kitchens meant food, and was so desperate for love and attention that he shadowed me through out the day. He was a scrawny gangly fearful guy who was hesitant to try anything new and expected the worst of other dogs. Over time I realized that he'd been trained as a hunting dog and that he responded to hand signals. I'd been wondering why on earth he kept looking at me the way he did. He walked in the circles that you see in dogs who've lived caged. His teeth were ground down, probably from chewing on stones. I fished stones out of his mouth for the first year or so. On Camano he began to come to life. He swam most days, played endless games of tennis ball and frisbee and fell in love with stuffed toys. He carries one everywhere, even to bed, and loves making them squeak. Elvis is eight now. Gradually over the years he's become more confident. He's learned to play and I swear that sometimes he laughs. His eyes twinkle when he's having fun. He's even occassionally been naughty, looking guilty when caught. This delights me. We live in Colorado now and Elvis has become a Rocky Mountain dog. He loves snow.. Plays in it like a puppy. His best friend is a neighboring Golden, Dakota. He's developed allegies as he's grown older, but we can keep them at bay with an organic diet, veggies, and supplements from the holistic vet. He loves everyone except the UPS man. And everyone loves Elvis....except the UPS man. He's ever so smart and amazes me with what he understands. He adores cats. He greets them with that touching noses thing that cats do. I can't imagine life without him. He came to me when my son was dying of cancer and watching him come to life, living with his constant love and affection, has made a huge difference in my ability to keep on.