Mixed Drinks
You could say that rescue dogs, the ones of various or unknown breeds, are like mixed drinks. Like the ones I served years ago to the mixed breed of customers, often men, who appeared in my station at the Coffee Cantata on Union Street. Long before I even knew of any such dogs entangled from birth.
I like an occasional mixed drink. My favorite is a lemon drop, probably because it is the closest thing to lemonade which is my most favorite beverage. My husband recently informed me that the salad dressing I make almost nightly is too lemony for his taste. He prefers lime flavor to lemon…who knew?
You could say that I am digressing here, but I will reverse and converse on the topic of mixes. I share my home with my husband and our mixed breed, Asher. Of the Hebrew name as the New Year approaches. He sits for the candles on Friday night and loves challah. He does not worship with us in the synagogue, but we worship him. You could say he is the child who has not yet, and will never, leave home. We brought him to our house a month before the world shut down and life came to a standstill. We were not among the multitudes of the untutored who adopted a dog just because. Our precious Cinnamon, another mixed drink, had passed the year before and our bed was getting cold for a new bundle of love and fur. As a result of the now popular genetic testing for dogs, we learned that Asher, also from the SPCA, is a tangle of breeds: German Shepherd, St. Bernard, Labrador Retriever, Australian Shepherd … and some part mutt!
Upstairs in our two-unit castle ,which we are grateful for, live a delightful couple who have just brought home their own, furry bundle.. A male, unneutered child, only a few months old, but definitely not of a questionable breed. More of a cocktail than a mixed drink of the unknown. A Bernedoodle from the Amish Country, from Ohio, delivered to them via an airplane ride in the company of a doggy nanny.
When he was first born, Asher was in a kill shelter with his mother and siblings, rescued from Fresno or somewhere in Tulare County. Brought to the SPCA where he was named “Presley” because new, rescued litters are given names beginning with the same letter. For the ease of adoption and for the shelter’s staff. Two months old, he came home with us and became Asher. Now, almost 4 years later he is being called upon to share our small, but green and flowery backyard. A trainer came today to introduce the dogs, to show us the path of least resistance towards friendship. So far…well, it is a lot of work.
Can a cocktail, curated and male with a fluffy coat of noble hair, become besties with an almost 4-year-old, quite neutered male who is sometimes equal part love and insecurity? Milo, the newbie, is keeping his name as he reminds his Australian human of the chocolate drink she had every morning as a child in Melbourne. We are all hopeful that Asher of the rough and tumble mix, served over ice in a short, stocky glass, and Milo will become friends just as the adults have. That they will both benefit from sidling up to the bar and being lavished with love and endless treats.