About 5 years ago now a young couple came into the store I was working in with the sweetest looking beagle I had ever seen. Of course like with every four legged dog that came in the store I instantly feel in love with her. "We're taking her to your house Holly!" "Yea right," I said. "no more dogs for us. They continued to say that they had called Bill and he had some friends in Athens who would take the dog in the morning.
When I arrived home that night from work lo and behold there the dog was curled up on Bill's lap just as if she had been a part of him her whole life. From the "I put my hand in the cookie jar" look on Bills face I knew she was ours and was not heading to Athens in the morning.
Her name derived from a Native American name Shanti, and of course she needed a middle name cause that is just how it is, so Marie was her middle name, when she was good her name was Shanti, when she was naughty it was and still is Shanti Marie Witt.
Now Shanti being a beagle was not known for her bunny hunting skills. She went out with dad several times and soon became the talk of the town because she had no desire at all to hunt, she liked being with Bill of course and would sit on his snow shoes instead of pack with other dogs. Her hunting days were short.
Shanti became a house pet, and thank goodness she did, for you see today she is my very best friend. She cuddles in her own blanket while watching television with me at night. She barks at the phone when it rings after we have gone to bed. She hears animals around the house at night and of course pants and barks which wakes me up, but she is my protector and that is her job now that her dad is no longer with us.
Shanti went though a hard time when Bill passed away, she was okay when family and friends were here to keep her occupied and play with her, but like any living animal that loves as she did her dad, she became depressed at the fact that her dad was not around any longer.
At night I hear her cry while she is sleeping, I know she is dreaming of her dad and how he played with her a night, and taught her some useless tricks, she misses his voice, and so I wake and pet her until the crying stops. It's hard to make her understand what is going on in the human world. She looks at me like she understands, but I know she doesn't really and who knows maybe that is for the best.
She has become my best friend, she is attached to my hip if you will, we talk and when I cry she will try to lick the tears away as if saying "mommy it is ok, I am here with you." I promised to take care of her forever, yet she is really my care taker. Together we make it through the trials and tribulations of being Holly and Shanti.
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