Cody the DOG

I see Cody the dog pretty often since he is my friend’s dog and lives across the street from me. Every time I am invited into their home Cody usually attacks my daughter and I out of excitement of seeing us, and I usually pat him on the head and tell him to calm down. To which my friend or her husband, with our interest in mind, will tell Cody to go to his Kennel, and if that didn’t calm him down then he’d be put outside. Yesterday was the first time that I came over her house just to hang out with Cody. No babies, since my friend’s son was at daycare, while I left my daughter with her grandmother.

Upon entering his home, he did what he normally does, he greeted me with nuzzles and licks, to which I greeted him back with hugs and air kisses. I then looked into his eyes and spoke to him telling him what beautiful eyes he had. I never noticed that one of his eyes pigmentation was only partially brown and the other half white. My friend told me that it was probably scratched in the womb. While she spoke about Cody, I just pictured how life would be in the womb of a dog. How it must have felt for his mother. What happened to her after her babies were born, and if she kept any of them? I then told my friend that I thought that animals had souls. How could animals not have souls, they feel joy, they know pain, and they love. She agreed with me and told me her thoughts on the subject. I then asked what he likes, to which she responded that he loves to be brushed. I soon had a brush in my hand and a biscuit in the other. Cody was very calm and seemed extremely happy.

Spending time with him began to remind me of my family dog Tami, who died a few years ago due to old age and kidney failure. She too loved this sort of attention. But then again who doesn’t? For instance, my daughter loves to be brushed and given treats too.

Tami though never seemed like a dog to me. I considered her my sister and my parents considered her their daughter. When she died we all became depressed to some extent. My father though, suffered the most. He broke down in tears to about everyone within an arms distance from him. He knocked on neighbors doors telling them of his loss. Many have said to him “why don’t you get another dog?” Yet he refuses, saying that he doesn’t want another. That’s how I would feel if my daughter died. I too would feel broken, at my wits end. She too would be irreplaceable.

Tami was my father’s closest friend and daughter. They spent every day in each other’s company. While my mother went to work, my father and Tami watched TV together, ate together, and sat outside in the sun together. When my mother returned home in the evening they went on a walk together. Even when she first began to loose her strength, they would pick her up when she became tired and hold her for parts of the walk that she couldn’t handle.

But back to Cody, the entire time I had been there he had received all our attention and thoughts. Every time our mouths opened Cody was the topic of discussion. From the story of his life, to the treatments of animals, and to what tricks and words he understands. Cody and I bonded that morning.

The funny thing is when I got home; my daughter seemed to have known where I was. She doesn’t speak but she can cry as she motioned towards the front door, reaching out. How could I say no to her? I returned to my friend’s house with Kimya so that she too could hang out with Cody.