My dad and I picked up Charly from the breeder. It was a solid day’s drive away. Then, we stayed in a hotel overnight. The first morning together, Charly cried and was a bit frantic when I entered the shower and closed the curtain. She was in the bathroom, but she wanted to see me or be nearer to me. I didn’t take her into the shower – maybe that would have quieted her and my shower could have been more than 90 seconds! Once back home, I soon discovered she loved water. A few weeks old, she would scamper into the ocean and snap at waves. She fetched sticks – provided they were in shallow enough water that her paws wouldn’t suddenly leave the sand…she declared herself to be a non-swimming-water-lover. She would drape the upper half of her body over the tub edge licking my bath bubbles, paws in my warm soapy retreat. She was oblivious to the rain. Once she started going on trail runs, she became a dredger in muddy water-filled ditches…repeatedly…for miles. Her muscled haunches gleamed with wet. No matter the weather, as a young dog, Charly remained fully vested in going outside.
Now, my senior Charly stands at the edge of the garage where the driveway begins, door open, and sniffs at the rain. Scampering abandoned. Enthusiasm dependent on the forecast. She waits for her rain jacket to be fastened around her bony back and hips. Water on her body is avoided. She no longer has access to any bath tubs on the main floor, but even if she did, I would expect to see her body nestled in the dry rug beside it. Baths for her now are infrequent, and occur only in the walk-in shower with me. They take place hurriedly and out of necessity after a groom (see OldDogBlog March 7th “Still wanted: Groomer for a senior dog (part two)”). In those moments, her cries in the shower, remind me of that first morning together. It’s not a full circle, but I do wish we could go around it together again.