Goodbye Priscilla

Around the corner, just near the beginning of my walk lived Priscilla. 

Priscilla was a 15 year old Samoyed.  As an older dog, she was a very quiet dog, possessing a quiet dignity.  She would be out with her owners while they would go about their business, and she'd go about her own.  A large dog of 15 still had business to do, but they do their own thing and do it slowly.   I was told by one of her owners that she'd take about a half of an hour to walk around the block and she'd do so smiling all the way.  After all, the Samoyed is known as the Smiling Dog.   The breed is known to be a free thinker, more independent than a trick dog that will entertain you.

Priscilla didn't resemble a dog so much as a snow white pillow that would lounge around regally as the world would go through its own paces.   After all, she couldn't move terribly fast so she'd be content with watching things go by.  I have a Border Collie, Lettie, who is terrified of dogs larger than she is and Priscilla was probably twice the volume with all that fur.   Priscilla would slowly walk over to Lettie and try to greet her and Lettie just wouldn't have anything of it.   Lettie would try to get as far away from Priscilla as my arm and leash would let her, and Priscilla would wear her down by merely slowly walking over like a Canine Tim Conway shuffling along.

I'd walk past their house with the large mostly glass front door and Priscilla would be watching back, lying on the floor and smiling.  She'd be there most of the day and night, and I had gotten to the point where I'd expect to see her, like an old friend.   Every time I'd have Lettie with me, she'd glance over and then avoid by picking up her paces and looking away.   Silly Lettie! that dog can't get to you let alone harm you!

Goodbye Priscilla, I'll miss you too.