Our dog, Swinter, is weird and always has been.
We got her at the Humane Society. While my family was fascinated by the puppies gathered together in a common area, I looked across the room and saw her face in a cage.
It was love at first sight for me. From what came next, she must’ve thought I was of the devil.
We went into a get-to-know-you room and attempted to interest her in play and snuggles. I doubt she licked the back of a single hand. It was a small space, so she couldn’t get away from us, but she tried.
On the positive side, she wasn’t mean about it. She didn’t growl or try to bite us.
Knowing what I know now, I’m sure she was having an anxiety attack. She likes people, but most of them freak her out.
We didn’t know that then. Maybe we weren’t properly observant. Her behavior didn’t set off any red flags with us.
We assumed she’d be fine once she joined our pack and realized we weren’t all that bad. We figured she’d fit in.
That eventually happened, but she’s still weird. Though she’s been walking the neighborhood for about a decade, very few humans are allowed to touch her.
It’s best if they stand still, so she’s able to sneak up to them and sniff their hands.
A couple of people, maybe three, in the neighborhood have petting rights, but that doesn’t mean what you might think it means.
They can pet her once, and that’s it. Then Swinter scoots away to a safe distance.
There are others she would like to let pet her fur. She makes this “ummm-ummm” sound when a human is around that she’s willing to approach but only so far.
It’s a heartbreaking sound because she wants the loving but doesn’t allow herself to have it. I think she’s most human in these moments when she’s trapped by her own limitations.
She also makes that sound when she comes up on a neighborhood cat. I don’t know how close she would allow herself to get to the cats because I stop her. A weird dog is one thing; a scratched-up weird dog is another.
Besides, she has a cat. We say that Puck is her boyfriend. As you might imagine, he’s long-suffering. Rarely is his love requited.
There are times when he can rub himself against her, and she’ll allow it. He gets more time than the people in the neighborhood but not by much.
If he’s in the mood, they’ll play around. She jumps and spins, and he swats at her. It’s fun to watch but it lasts only so long.
Since I’ve been working from home, Swinter and Puck have become my co-workers. Both have changed in their own ways.
Puck has gotten more obnoxious. He wants in. He wants out. He yells at me to pet him while he’s eating. But he’s Swinter’s cat, so what am I going to do?
For her part, Swinter is more doglike. While I’m working, she sticks her cold nose against my elbow and entices me to pet her.
Who is she?
She also started sleeping at my feet while I work. Again, that’s not something she used to do.
We’ve had her for about a decade, and all of the sudden, she’s, somehow, becoming slightly more like a dog.
Isn’t that weird?
Then again, so am I.
