Auntie Kay had her fill of dog hair throughout the house with previous pets. She resolved to end that burdensome cleaning chore with the next dog. When Nicholas Ferguson Gudlaugsson Gallagher Shep arrived on the scene, the kitchen was destined to become his solitary room. Auntie Kay placed a barrier in the doorway between the kitchen and the rest of the house. Eventually, the barrier came down and Nick, as I called him, made the kitchen his only home.
In the summer, the Smith family ate supper outside, for we didn’t have air conditioning. Auntie Kay would set the table in the shade of a large cherry tree just outside of the house. Everyone had a hand in carrying out the food for the table, however we usually left the dessert on the kitchen counter but sometimes it wound up on the kitchen table.
One evening, after we had finished the main course, Auntie Kay took the dirty dishes into the kitchen with the intention of returning with the dessert which was my favorite, apple pie. When she returned she was empty handed and angry! You have to remember that Nick was a sizable dog. He could put his head on our kitchen table, and did just that when he smelled and saw that apple pie just sitting there saying “eat me”. By the time Auntie Kay entered the kitchen, Nick had consumed much of the pie. He was so gentle, that the pie plate remained on the table while he feasted.
Pie isn’t the only thing dogs eat aside from their own kibble. Our farm was 15 acres in size, so that left a lot of room for a dog to wander and find strange edible things. Nick was an opportunist. He would find something rotten, eat some and roll in the rest, to him, mmmmm. I always seemed to find out too late of his perfumed coat after greeting him by rubbing his neck. On one occasion I blundered into his stinky coat after he had rolled in some superbly smelly poop! It must have been a big pile because it seemed to be all over him. Solution? Down to Park Rill for a bath. We arrived at the edge of the water and we both just stood there, he was stinking and I was thinking. I ordered him into the water, he refused to move, I picked up a stick and threw it in, he still refused to move. It was as if he was saying, “I know what you are trying to do, and I like my coat the way it is!”
Finally I just pushed him into the water, he didn’t resist too much and I made sure his back got wet also. He came out looking like drowned rat and gazed at me as if to say, “stand a little closer and I’ll get you when I shake.” After he shook he smelled a little better. At least when we returned to the house, the wet dog wasn’t going anywhere where he would contaminate our stuff. It would only be a matter time before he found something else to roll in and we would do it all over again.