a guy and two girls

Undercover they were known as the assassins, when they took out a family of possums living in the eaves of the house. We could never figure out if it was the squat-body, part terrier or the tall-solid muscle one. Neither one of them fessed up to the crime.

They defeathered a bird after getting too close to their food, and rolled a hedgehog into a panting ball.

Protectors. World Travelers. Givers.

We called them, the girls – one terrier X, the other an American bulldog with a long nose. Their first meeting was not a good one, they fought continuously like dueling bears, standing on hind legs, growling and biting. It didn’t occur to us, until after we yelled to break it up, that is was all about personal space and terrority.

Celia didn’t like Mariah by her food or vice versa. We thought it was strange that they fought in the morning, and by mid-day they’d find comfort in the shade, sleeping back-to-back.

When my job sent our family to Germany, they loved long walks along the countryside through weaving paths of carrots, rutabaga, cabbage, tobacco and sunflowers. They stayed inside a picket fence, and never jumped over. Unknown to them, they also helped a neighbor’s granddaughter learn to eat. As long as the child saw the girls in the backyard, she ate everything on her plate.

Together, they lived in Texas, twice, and Germany once, loving the outdoors with hugs from Mariah, and presents from Celia, who gifted large rocks from their morning walks. Adopted like our first dog, they lived their senior years (13 and 14 in doggy years) digging holes, agitating the next door dogs at the fence, and enjoying an occasional rib bone.

Then one day, birds lined the fence to pay their respect, and the girls were gone.

Protector. Foodie. World Traveler. Connoisseur.

Jasper, my heart. After college in my first apartment, I wanted to come home to someone, so I adopted a dog. He looked like Benji, part terrier, with a welcoming personality. One of the best decisions that I made, though we didn’t exactly hit it off as well as I hoped.

He dumped on all my shoes, ate a hole through the bathroom door, and refused to stay in one place while I was at work. My boyfriend at the time asked if Jasper sat on the couch, because his sweaters were covered in hair.

Of course not, he wasn’t allowed. During one of his great escapes, I came home from work to find him stretched out on the couch. I could no longer deny the accusation. After all, he was just being a dog. I wanted to give him back, but my mom convinced me that a mom doesn’t return her baby to the hospital, so I couldn’t return him.

We did our best, spending time with each other at dog level on the floor. Tummy and ear rubs became his favorite. Slowly with patience we bonded, and he stepped into the role of the great protector, who wouldn't allow anyone near me.

Each Christmas, we took a family photo of us together from our house to yours. If I walked him, he protected me from everyone. But, when my husband walked him, he was everyone’s best friend.

When my husband worked on a car, he laid in the yard. Other dogs would pass by on high alert, but Jasper was so laid back, he’d look up and ignore them. But, if someone stepped into the yard, guard dog back on duty. He protected the family well.

We made a pack, one day I would buy him a house, so that he could lounge in the yard all day during his senior years.

A connoisseur of food, he ate everything a dog shouldn’t like fudge, melon, flour tortillas, fish, even cat food. He didn’t care, guess he was a lot like me, his mama, who also loved to travel. He lived in Spain + 8 states in 2 townhouses, 2 apartments, 1 duplex, 2 hotels and with friends and family. He loved running the Spanish countryside, and guarding the terrazza from any passerby.

A heart of gold, he was part human, part dog. But, it was his heart that gave up after 14 dog years. He never made it to the new house.

Although two girls did, and they all served us well.