I was going to title this “Lexi’s Legacy,” but I realized that my readers might that she had died. When I could not handle her on my own, she found a new home and is quite happy in it…
So instead, I will talk about what she did.
I am a dog person. Now and forever onward, ever since that little girl was brought into my home with big dark eyes,
a wiggling backside and a happy feisty temper.
I used to be an anti-dog person. Scared to death of them…nervous, always had to be seated when they came around, could never get used to the smell, etc.
The first two months were hell. She chewed on everything but humans, and didn’t want to be anywhere near me. I was less than enthused about her being there and the feeling was mutual. She was never aggressive, but practiced avoidance big time….my former roomate was the Real Person, the one she’d bonded with. I wasn’t even a Second Tolerated Person. I was the Sick One Who Yelled A Lot and weirded her out.
Then, she discovered that she liked tuna. And that I was The Purveyor of the Tuna. (I really think she has some cat in her DNA.) She learned sitting and playing dead from me. (and begging and rolling over from the roomate…an even split).
She discovered my wheelchair made a great napping den, and headed underneath it for her daily 2:00-6:00 nap.
I was annoyingly foccussed elswhere, after all. The darn computer. It would become 8:00 pm Time To Eat….and she’d come and stand on her hind legs, put her forepaws on my knee…and wait patiently…or not so patiently while I got into trouble on the internet…
“It’s time to EAT!” “Whyaren’tyoupayingAttentionToMe!!!” “I’m righthererightnowandIwantmyFOOD, you stupid human..!”
I got better at feeding and playing with her for specified lengths of time, and she allowed, she liked me better then.
It was when the roommate was hospitalized with something severe, away for awhile, that Lexi and I finally bonded….she’d come and sleep nearby, and start licking me at the top of my head with the obviously laudable goal of licking my entire self…starting down the shoulders and arms etc…until I got better….and I would laugh and say “Lexi, honey, I really appreciate this, but licking ain’t gonna fix me…” Especially since a miniature schnauzer couldn’t possibly cover the entirety of the landscape. She would sit on my feet when I was sad, and wouldn’t let me leave my recliner, unless she went with me. She met my friends and I discovered she is a shameless flirt who loves men, all men,even the evil ex boyfriend, better than women.
For example, if a male friend had visited, and my former roommate came home from her workshift, instead of the usual multiple Leaps of Gladness at her arrival, Lexi’s reaction would go something like:
“Who are you? I don’t wanna see you…I don’t wanna talk to You…Where’s my New Boyfriend, huh? I want them! I don’t want a thing to do with you until I’ve seen the Man!”
Over time, I became the Second Person, the one to look to when the First Person was nowhere to be found. I was still the bad copbut I got more respect and affection…on the day I called graduation day, she was uncharacteristically close, snuggled into my tummy in bed, and wasn’t about to be dislodged for a good while…she knew something was up.
Since her Graduation Day last year (The day she went to her new home) I now have this urge to rescue dogs. I see the ones abandoned by cruelty or displaced by storms…they all seem to have that same hopeful look on their faces as they stare into the camera. I wish I could take one into my home, especially the ones that seem to come across my FB feed with the warning that they may be euthanized very soon if no home is found. I get profoundly sad sometimes.
However, I know getting Lexi to a new place was absolutely the right decision because I don’t have the resources to see to her proper veterinary care or the right technology or training skills to help her handle her business in conjunction with the house rules of my present home.
But I will never be automatically nervous around another dog…I’ll be open and glad to see them, quick to play with them and ask after their habits, communicate with them fluently and get what they’re saying back to me, even if they don’t make a sound.
That’s one of the many things that LexiTheSchnauzer did for me, and doggone it that’s a good thing.
The conversation in the early mornings between Regina the Doe Princess and LexitheSchnauzer usually goes like this:
Regina with a look of disdain: Seriously? Barking at me? I outweigh you by approximately eight to one, you little anke-biter.
LexiTheSchauzer: Butbutbut (barking) I wanna be a Real Predator!!!!!!!!! I wanna Bring You Down!!!!!!
Regina: I also notice that Human on the Moving Wheelchair has you on a leash, and I can do the math. I know exactly how long that thing is. So I’ll just carefully step with my dainty feet…just out of reach…to drive you Crazy………..Bwhahaha!
Eventually Lexi lowers her head and heads towards Inside.
I say to her: S’okay kid. You’re still the Terror of Grasshoppers Everywhere.
The minute Miss Gulch went after her Lexi would have destroyed her fugly support hose and punctured the tires on her bycicle with her teeth…followed her home and barked until dawn, driving that prissy freak crazy from lack of sleep, and hidden from any gunshot Miss Gulch might want to fire.
She would have gnawed at the socks of the dead Wicked Witch of the East, just to show her dominance.
She would have loved the Scarecrow, and slept peaceably on top of his head. He would have forgiven her for the occasional straw pulling, I’m sure. She’d have been annoyed that she couldn’t chomp on the Tin Man, and barked and played with the Cowardly Lion until he was no longer fearful.
Upon facing the Winged Monkeys:
“You talkin to me? You talkin to Me!” …and leaped and snapped and barked at them until they fled in terror.
She woulda had the Wicked Witch of the West barking mad in no time. Played fetch with the crystal ball and cracked it, stolen her clothes, destroyed her broom, knocked over the hourglass,…and stood sentinel at Dorothy’s feet.
But there would have been a problem at the end, I think.
She would have shot a look at Dorothy:
He!! no! I don’t want to go back to Kansas! The rats are faster (and they talk back!), the dog food’s better, and I have cooler playmates, the Horse of Many Colors and the NoLongerCowardly Lion!
Ruby slippers my ***!
Thanks, Timmargh and others who read– she’s suffered the equivalent of a sprain….and is much less rocket driven than usual…