Some years ago when the children were smaller, and before some of them existed, there was a part-German-Shepherd dog who guarded us in all travels and abodes. (We travel a lot.) Whatever door I went in, he adopted as his own and would warn away all comers unless I told him otherwise. No resting place of our family and no child could be approached without his permission. His spot in my heart is permanent.
On Saturday morning there was a puppy sitting in the neighbor’s yard, outside our fence, patiently looking at our dogs who were curious about her. On Saturday afternoon, having found her way under or around the fence of her own accord, she was sitting on MY front porch. By the ticks and burrs and bony ribs beneath the fluff you could tell she wasn’t the neighbor’s new dog. Carlos the Labrador shared his food with her… and she spent the night in the barn.
Sunday night she barked (as gruffly as a little one can!) at the car pulling into the driveway. She spent Sunday night, untied and uncaged, on the front porch, waiting ’till I came out at dawn.