I met “J. D.”, “Rusty” and “Yellow Dog” in 2007, I think. I’ll have to check my files, but I think that’s correct. Two boys and a girl, unrelated but siblings none the less. They lived in a gated community in a 4 bedroom, 3 bath house with fenced yard, two car garage and a friendly neighborhood for walking any time of day or night.
Their parents are friends of mine and their dad is my husband’s boss. The home’s interior is cozy and welcoming and the people who live there are easy going, friendly and totally into homeopathic medicines, treatments for whatever ails you, and alternative, healthy, unrecognizable foods (at least from my perspective). They just purchased a health food store and are in the process of making conscientious, informed choices regarding their diet and mine. I always tell my clients that snack food is appreciated because some days are very long and I do not take personal time out to eat. I’ve been known to snack from house to house or bring a sack lunch or microwaveable meal from home when I’m servicing pets at meal times. In this home, however, all my designated snacks are green.
Anyway, back to the three main characters in my story. “J. D.” (short for John’s dog) was a Beagle mix, I’m guessing. Yellow Dog, a cocker spaniel, and Rusty was absolutely purebred beagle in all regards. They were each other’s best friend and could not be separated, even vying for my attention. It was a package deal or no deal. It didn’t take long to understand this camaraderie and I soon needed extra hands to scratch every place on everybody! They followed each other through the house in a modified Velcro fashion. The only times they separated were at meal times and back yard duty. Otherwise, they were found in a dog pile (literally) at the dining room window, next to the kitchen island or gas fireplace in the family room.
J. D. did not walk on a leash, but I could take Rusty and Yellow Dog together for a short sprint. Rusty took the lead and was not a choosy as her older brother when it came to free sniff samples. Yellow would dig in and leave me stranded at the leash length while he finished his investigation. He especially liked the pine straw!
The lady of the house played piano and her family room had the upright next to the wall bordering her master bedroom. The bench was filled with her favorite sheet music and sing along books, so I helped myself, sat down and started sight reading. I can play well if I practice and the tv had worn out its entertainment value. If the truth is told, I had difficulty using the remote and had to request written instructions for subsequent visits.
I started playing and then accompanying myself on tunes I recognized. I heard the piano (a little flat), I heard my voice (similarly flat), and I heard something else. Something else from”dogdom”: a beagle like howl, beginning quietly and then crescendoing to mezzo forte. Rusty was singing for all the world to hear. She continued the 40 minutes I was at the piano. Nonstop, happy howling. Her siblings had relocated to points unknown. She didn’t care…
I had always wanted to major in music. I tried in college, but the practice regimen interfered with my social agenda. I did not have music in MY adult home until my kids took lessons. Well, I had other peoples music in my home. I had cassette tapes, laser discs, 45 and 78 records and CDs of recordings of other peoples music. Maybe even home movies of family members and complete strangers singing other peoples music…and I had pianos just for decoration for years.
So now I play for my own pleasure and when moved to do so, take lessons. Of course, I had 15 years of lessons both on piano and clarinet (through high school). I married into the US Navy and endured a constant, almost annual tour of duty changes, making it impossible to ship my girlhood grand piano. My second chance to enjoy the piano coincided with this last and final move; (been here since 1999 and unless the next place comes with two headstones, I’m not relocating). I have a beautiful concert grand piano-ebony; the final gift from my dad. My inheritance is now the showpiece, in the place of honor, in the conservatory of my present house.
Sorry, enough about me and back to the story…
I now had the opportunity I had been waiting for all my life. But how could I convince my friends to lend me their beloved Rusty for a world tour? How could I submit a tape to AFV and my claim to fame? I would have to stop pet sitting. Nope, my dream would have to wait. I love my job. And of course, Rusty and I must practice, practice, practice. We’ll start small, just recitals for now. Just for family and friends and the occasional neighbor who has the misfortune to pass by at rehearsal time.
I look forward to my visits there. I just looked on my calendar: great, they are scheduled for a week next month. “Rusty, warm up on some scales and arpeggios, would you please”?
“J.D” passed in 2009, I miss him very much.
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