Lessons from Shadow

HI! I’M SHADOW You can't see me, but I am a dog. I suppose you're pretty surprised that I'm talking. You shouldn't be. Some dogs can talk. It's just that you can't understand them. What you don't know is that we really understand you all the time. I know it sounds a little far-fetched, but think about it. How many times have you really thought that your dog understood what you were saying? Forget about cats. Cats can't understand anything and they don't care anyway. As I'm writing this, I'm a ten-year-old lab. Let me give you a little background. There were about five or six of us in my litter. My brothers and sisters and I were adopted and lived with a family and a bunch of people off and on for three or four years. I'm not sure really what happened during that time, but I wasn't treated very well, because I have never wanted anyone ever to touch my feet or my mouth. I guess I must've been hurt pretty bad and traumatized, whatever that means, at an early age. They called me Shadow because I was always following people around. In fact, I still do, everywhere! My daddy says I shouldn't follow him into this sort of small room; it has a white thing that he sits on sometimes and sometimes he stands up. I don't know what they call it. A word about why I call him Daddy. I know it sounds stupid, but that's what he calls himself. That's what my mommy called herself, when she talked to me. It does sound silly, but if that’s what it takes to get treats and so forth, you go along. He calls himself Daddy and I respond to it. And, I do follow him all over the place and practically run into him when he stops. Mostly he likes it and I always like it. I was adopted at a Labrador rescue event they held near our house. It’s where doggies who have been given away or abandoned are placed up for adoption. My future Mommy and Daddy were driving home from a Toys for Tots party at Pendleton Marine Base and they saw a sign for a lab rescue. Apparently, they had recently lost, or I should say she passed away, another lab named Tessa. They already had a dog named Betsy, that they thought was part border collie but turned out to be a corgi. I could have told them that when I saw her, the way she strutted around and acted so bossy. Anyway they wanted a friend for Betsy. When they saw the big rescue sign, they stopped and found me and thought I was pretty cute. They were very good judges of character and appearance. But they weren't sure how I would fit in with Betsy, so my Mommy stayed with me and Daddy left. He drove up to the house and got Betsy and brought her back. We walked around together. From the start she made it pretty clear that if I was going to move into her house, I was going to be way below the number two dog and that she was going to be the number one dog. She was sort of yippy and sassy, but it seemed a better choice than living in a cage. I made nice, nice to her and she accepted me. We began living together in this big house with my mommy and daddy. They were very good to us and every morning they would take Betsy and me out for a walk up and down the street. I was sort of aggressive and pulled on the leash and Betsy would walk along very quietly. But when some other dogs came along, I would do my thing, which was barking and pulling on the leash and generally acting like a jerk. Betsy didn't bark very much then, but boy when the doorbell rang, she'd run to the door and yip, yip, yip, yip, until someone opened the door and answered it. During the day, Daddy wasn’t home all the time. He used to go to a place called the Club. Sometimes he came home happy and sometimes he came home very angry. I don't quite know what they do at the Club, but it takes a long time. He wears funny shorts when he goes there. Mommy mostly cooked, also went to the Club once in a while, and she read a lot of books and did crossword puzzles and stayed home with us, Betsy and me. Sometimes they would take these big black boxes out of the closet that they called suitcases and fill them up with clothes. They'd go away for a while. I never knew how long, because even though I can understand English, I'm not so good with time. They always said they'd be right back and sometimes they would zoom back and sometimes it took a long time, but I don't know how long it was. When they did go away, a friendly man named Bobby would come and stay with us and take us for walks. He did something at the Club, too. Although I don't think he did what Daddy did. He walked around with Daddy and other people carrying things. When he came over, we'd all look at that special window in the family room that had people in it and watch General Hospital together and old Elvis Presley movies and things like that. It was sort of fun. Bobby would feed us and walk us and give us water. Magically our mommy and daddy would show up again with those black boxes. They'd take the clothes out of the black boxes except a lot of the clothes they gave to Connie and Chelli to put in the room where we slept. Connie and Chelli come to our house once a week, and they don't speak English very well and I don't always understand them, but they love me and I love them and they love Betsy, so that's okay. They put those clothes in the big white machines that were in our room that make a horrible sound and after a while they'd take them out of the machines and put them back in Mommy and Daddy’s room. And that was that, things were back to normal. As we go on, in the stories that follow, I’m going to tell you lots more about my life and adventures. I will also share with you some lessons I learned along the way that I hope will help you. So come on and follow me, Shadow.