Sparkey

I remember the first day we met Sparkey, sitting quietly in a pen of loud, barking puppies. We had gone to the town animal shelter to find a new family member. She was a little ball of black fur, just a small splotch of white on her chest. Oh, she was so quiet, dainty. The perfect addition to our family of five.

We brought her home and gently set her on the floor. New leash, collar, food bowl and bed. Across the living room she waddled. She hit the tile floor in the kitchen and off she ran. It seemed she never stopped after that, so the name of Sparkey stuck. She was far from dainty, even at three months she owned the house. Knew she was the boss.

Black fur, flashing black eyes and white, shiny teeth. Little toenails clacking across the tile. We loved her. But from the day she came home our three-year old, Roni was her buddy. Mud pies in the back yard, she was up for it. Stories in bed under the covers, dress up, that extra piece of bacon that was too much for Roni's breakfast made that puppy the princess of the house.

Roni was a quiet, tiny child. A little timid about new things. She loved that puppy with a passion. They were always together. Little girl laughs mixed with puppy barks. Sometimes, if it was too quiet, they were in trouble. We would set on the porch and watch the two of them play. She would take the puppy on walks. To be fair, I'm not sure that it wasn't the puppy taking Roni on the walks. Up and down the sidewalk in front of the house.

She had been with us for about 6 weeks and Roni's dad was in the front yard, and the two of them were playing tag. He didn't see the dog that was roaming in the alley. Our neighborhood was usually free from dogs roaming without an owner. We had no idea that a dog from three or four blocks over was off his leash.

I remember standing at the sink in the kitchen, washing dishes. I could her the three of them in the yard. I heard the two small ones as they ran around the side of the house, by the kitchen window. Giggles, puppy barks, nothing unusual. A neighbor, two houses over was mowing his yard.

From the back of the house comes this loud, vicious barking. Something I haven't heard before and I see my husband as he runs by the window. The barking continues and I go out the back door. There in the yard are my little girl, a bouncing, barking ball of fur and a huge, growling dog about 20 feet away. My husband swears that Sparkey startled the big dog so much with all that vicious barking. It stopped him from attacking. She had planted herself squarely between the threat and her person. A neighbor got the big dog's attention, it ran off down the alley. Roni was picked up and held tight by her dad. Sparkey in her usually mode, fluffed up her tail and pranced away.

Several neighbors were in the yard by that time, all of them had been attracted by the loud barking of our pup. Animal control was contacted, later finding the dog. As far as we know the owner never claimed the other dog. Sparkey went from being the little princess of the neighbor to being the Queen of her home that day.

She was with us for another 12 years, her eyesight dimmed, her hearing was bad. Never giving up the roll of protector, she slept in the hall between Roni's bedroom and ours. Her nails clacked down the hall when she heard a strange sound. Her growl let me know when my sons got home from football practice or work. Over the years she welcomed teenagers galore to the house. Made sure they didn't sneak out, ruined a few plans.

When her health grew bad, she was in pain and the time came to say goodbye, Roni's heart was broken. Sometimes late at night, I still hear those nails clacking down the hallway. I miss her and feel blessed that she was ours. On a shelf in the living room, is a small gold tin, wrapped in Burgandy, a dog's tag with name and bow. Memories of a live well lived.