The Best Dog Ever

Mary's Boston Terrier, Sputter. 1962

 Little Mary wanted to play outside every day with her new dog, Sputter. Sputter was a sweet black and white Boston Terrier her family got from a friend of her uncle's who lived in East Texas. He was already 3 years old when Sputter came to live with Mary's family. He'd been the pet of a woman who said that she could not properly care for him anymore.The woman feared that Sputter would be killed if she let him roam around her large lawn so near a busy highway. It would be Sputter's fate to live his days in a crate while the woman was away at work. The woman began to feel sorry for Sputter and realized he needed a home with children in a safer environment. Knowing his niece and nephew wanted a dog, her uncle told Mary's parents about the dog needing a new home. One day when they visited her uncle, Daddy drove to the woman's house so his children could meet Sputter. Mary and her whole family thought Sputter was smart and fell in love with the playful black and white Boston Terrier. The crate stayed with the woman because Sputter would be allowed to sleep on an enclosed porch just off the family's kitchen in his new home. Even though he was not the puppy Mary had talked about, she was very happy to have Sputter.

Mary & Sputter in Tug of War. 1962

Sputter's previous owner had done a good job of training the dog. He would sit and stay when told to and not move an inch until the owner gave permission. Sputter could shake hands or paws, roll over and lie down on command. The dog especially liked playing fetch outside and would get excited at the mention of going outdoors. Somewhere Mary found an old rubber toy, a fish of all things, which he would retrieve like a hound on a bird whenever Mary threw it out in her large backyard. Mary thought Sputter looked as if he was smiling or laughing as they played together. Sometimes when Sputter returned the fish, he'd tussle and play a game of Tug of War with Mary, not releasing the fish. Tug of War, was Mary and Sputter's favorite game. Sometimes Mary could actually lift Sputter off the ground by holding onto the fish's tail while Sputter kept a tight bite on the head of the fish. She'd lift him off the ground and spin him round and round until he'd let go of the fish. Then, like a football runner waiting for the pass, Sputter would joyfully run out a small distance from Mary looking back for the toss of fish, and the game would continue and end with another round of Tug of War.

Sputter was the best pet a little 9 year old girl could have. He walked wherever she went, sat at her feet while she watched TV and even slept beside her bed when she was sick. One winter, Mary got a bad sore throat with a fever and cough. Mary's mom sent her to bed while recovering. Sputter laid on the floor by her bed jumping up from time to time to see if his friend was ready to play. As she began to feel better, Mary's mom gave her ice cream to sooth her throat. When the ice cream was eaten, Mary would let Sputter lick the bowl. He loved ice cream as much as Mary did and tried to steal a lick whenever possible.

Another day Mary had gone outside with an ice cream cone. Sputter watched her every move anticipating a taste of her treat. As she knelt down to pick some small thing of interest off the ground, Sputter quickly took a lick of her ice cream cone. Mary laughed at her pet doing such a thing, but admonished him just the same.  "Dogs don't eat ice cream, Sputter!" she said, but he was looking up at her with his beautiful brown eyes as if to say, "What? Don't you see how excited I am?  Come on. One more lick. Please?"  Mary laughed to herself, but stayed firm with her decree that dogs don't eat ice cream.

Mary and Sputter were great friends. He seemed to react to her sad, or anxious feelings as if he wanted to help. If she was sad, Sputter might sit beside her laying his chin on her knee or simply stay near Mary for comfort. While Mary rarely got into trouble with her daddy, on this particular day, for reasons that escape me, perhaps she had not minded him and was in for a spanking. She and her daddy were in his vegetable garden when the altercation took place. Daddy took off his belt and holding Mary's arm was in mid-swing to spank her legs for refusing to mind him. Sputter, watching and listening to Mary's protests, began to jump around Daddy biting at the belt. Perhaps Sputter considered this a new game and just wanted to play with the belt, but Mary would always believe that he was protecting her and didn't want Daddy to spank his master and friend. Daddy even laughed a little at Sputter's persistence to grab the belt and gave into his pleas to leave Mary alone. Daddy humorously said later he learned never to discipline Mary when Sputter was around. 

During a season of the dog's life, Sputter developed heart worms and became very ill. The veterinarian told Mary's family that a series of shots could be administered to Sputter to kill the heart worms. However, the chances were great that Sputter might not survive the harsh treatments. His chances of survival were bleak. Mary's parents decided that the costly treatments would not be worth it if they killed Sputter instead of making him well. Sputter's last days were spent either on the indoor back porch or in the garage lying on his dog bed. He moved very slowly and only got out of his bed for water. For Mary and her whole family, it was very sad to watch their dear pet suffer and look at them with sad brown eyes. Then, one summer morning Mary was on her way to the garage to visit Sputter, when she noticed his bed was sitting out by the garbage cans. Her heart sank and her eyes began to whelm up with tears as she realized Sputter was gone. Mary's mom came out on the back porch to console her daughter saying that when Daddy had gone out that morning to check on Sputter, her dog was whimpering and seemed to be asking him for help. Mom told Mary that taking Sputter to the vet to be put to sleep was a hard task for Daddy. After he returned home, Daddy went to the Mary's room and talked to her about how difficult it was to see Sputter in such pain as he whimpered while just lying on his bed. Now, he told her, Sputter was no longer in pain.

Mary grieved for her friend and pet for weeks after Sputter was put down. She never blamed her daddy for what he had to do because she knew it was best for the dog to be put out of his misery. Although, Mary never had another Boston Terrier, to this day when she sees one, she smiles and remembers fondly the best dog ever.

Let's Have Another Cup of Coffee or Tea

Since becoming infatuated with British and Canadian television shows lately, it is only fitting that I should also indulge in a cup of afternoon tea using my finest china cups and saucers. Actually, my nice china is the only set of dishes I own with cups and saucers. Sipping a cup of tea from a nice cup creates the illusion of a calmer, slower day than that of thoughtless mug-sized gulps of coffee in the car on the way to work. The enjoyment of tea is also accompanied by the delicate tinkling sound as the cup lightly touches back on the saucer, the poised feel of the slender cup handle between my fingers and thumb, and the delicate taste of the fragrant tea. 

The television shows I have watched in which the lead characters prefer a steamy cup of tea to the more common cup of Joe, has been on shows such as Downton Abbey, Murdoch Mysteries, Foyle’s War, Doc Martin and even an American show, The Mentalist, where Patrick Jane often requests a cup tea complete with saucer.

When watching these TV shows and the tea being consumed, I must enjoy a little “low tea” of my own in the afternoon. Low tea, I learned, simply refers to the height of table used from which to serve the tea. Low tea would be served on the lower more common coffee table in mid afternoon. Then, “high tea”, contrary to popular American belief, is actually tea served at the evening meal on the higher dinner table, which, of course, is higher in height. Therefore, since I’m not sipping tea at my dinner table, I have low tea from my coffee table. Ironic, that it is referred to as a “coffee” table when drinking tea. Perhaps I should refer to my sofa table as a “tea” table.

Seeing England, the land of our Forefathers, in these shows is very intriguing to me. Having grown up and live in Southeast Texas, I rarely get even a glimpse of the old colonies or settlements the English established in America, much less England or Canada. All of the landscapes are beautiful in these shows; the old buildings where the scenes are shot as well as the characters’ costumes are such fun to watch. Even if I were to visit England or Canada, I believe I’d be disappointed to find that it would look very much like America. Although, I also suggest that some of the reasons I enjoy these TV shows so much is because of the slow pace of life in the stories.

The days I do not substitute teach I’m left home to be as slow as I’d like. Although, I should enjoy these days, I don’t really. Instead, I feel sad, a little guilty, that I’m not adding to our income instead of staying home. I wish I could enjoy my retirement, but some days it simply depresses me not to be out working. However, it is not the love of working I desire, it is the freedom to enjoy my days at home. On those days, I have to talk to myself saying it is all right and I have plenty to do around the house. 

Finding something to occupy my time is an easy task. For the 30 years I taught school, I longed to be left at home alone without kids or anyone to interrupt, to be able to clean out closets, do a thorough job of cleaning blinds, curtains and kitchen cupboards. What was I thinking? Ha! Likely I will not be content until I die. I realize it's not a very Christian sentiment, but I'm praying and working on that with God.

Now to continue my day at home. I believe I’ll have a second cup of coffee or perhaps an English tea while I watch TV or perhaps work on one of the hundreds of tasks on my to-do list.