Lucy and Bear

When I was in high school my family had two dogs. If you could’ve seen them you’d think we chose them on purpose to match each other. They both had longish fur, a soft golden-tan color, with darker ears and faces, and their tails looked like plumes. We named the bigger dog Bear and the smaller one, Lucy.

We got these dogs the same way we got all our dogs through the years. We found them. Bear followed my dad home on a bike ride— followed him for miles and miles! We tried to find his owner but no one claimed him. We took pictures of him to post here and there—trying to find him a new home. But somehow, in every photo he was showing his teeth and looking wild-eyed. Lucy, on the other hand, had been dropped off at a gas station parking lot and we happily took her in.

We lived near a lake and both Lucy and Bear loved to swim. Bear seemed to float without having to work hard at it, but Lucy paddled like crazy. Sometimes Lucy would go too far out in the lake and get confused. The first time I saw her do it, I was afraid she’d drown. She was way out in the middle of the lake swimming in circles because she couldn’t decide which way to go. I called to her, trying to get her to come back towards me but she was too frantic to listen. Then I saw Bear heading out after her. Lucy climbed up on his back and he swam her home. 

You’d think Lucy would’ve learned not to go so far out in the lake anymore, but she didn’t. She was a sassy and determined little dog and she went out too far again and again. And each time she had to be rescued or cheered back to shore by our family.

Finally, when Lucy refused to wise up and change her ways, Bear began to rescue her preemptively. He’d grab her tail when he saw her heading out into the water. She would growl at him in protest with her tiny growl, but Bear wouldn’t let go. He’d pull her back against her will, even with her snapping at him. As a result of this tail tug-of-war, over the years Lucy’s tail looked less and less like a plume. It became ragged and stringy. 

Whenever I think of those two wonderful dogs (and that’s often), I think what a gift true friendship is. What a gift when someone is willing to be honest with you and pull you back when you go to far, even if it ruins your tail.

~Amy