This is Tipper. She is neurotic, and getting pretty old, and doesn’t like to move if she doesn’t have to. She will stand in one place for long moments, a canine version of Eeyore.
Some children somewhere were unkind to her early in her life, so she's always been nervous around kids. But she looooves me.
Shortly after we met, she dug under a fence, ran through some yards, bolted across Springfield Avenue and landed on my porch a couple of blocks away. She had never walked to my house before; she had been there only once, and had arrived via car. Never did figure out how she knew to get there.
Tipper used to bolt like lightning after even the hint of a rabbit or squirrel, and show up hours later on the porch.
That was some years ago. Now she’s 14, and pretty set in her ways, moving pretty slowly, and probably not long for this world. But sometimes when she sees me come in the door, her tail becomes a propeller.
And this is Daisy. She is not very bright, but her owner, and many others, think she is cute.
She and Tipper live together. She followed Tipper on that perilous journey across Springfield, later getting hit by a car there, costing her owner many hundreds of dollars and getting herself a metal plate installed in her hip.
Even after all that, Daisy has some serious hops. If I could jump the way she can, I would be able to stuff Lebron James without even trying.
Daisy isn’t much younger than Tipper. She has been mostly blind for a couple years now, and is startled if furniture gets moved or if you stride quickly across the room. She doesn’t trust electrical cords and will go out of her way to avoid them. I’m not sure how, but she knows they’re there. She bumps into the wall from time to time.
Still, she is happy. My goodness, she is happy. She is the opposite of Tipper in that respect.
If my wife, the owner of these dogs, walks into the room, it appears very quickly that I don’t exist. I understand that. She brought both of them home from the Champaign County Humane Society. That gets you some undying gratitude.
They’re not my dogs. They were pre-existing dogs. If it comes right down to it, I do not have to take care of them. But I do, from time to time. And they're usually happy to see me.
So you see, I already got the dogs.
Dogs + laptop, as you might say, FTW.