Amy Newmark - Chicken Soup for the Soul: 101 Tales of Family, Friendship & FunL the magic of dogs

Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Magic of Dogs

101 Tales of Family, Friendship & Fun

Amy Newmark

Published by Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC www.chickensoup.com

Copyright 2020 by Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

CSS, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and its Logo and Marks are trademarks of Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC.

The publisher gratefully acknowledges the many publishers and individuals who granted Chicken Soup for the Soul permission to reprint the cited material.

Front cover photo courtesy of gettyimages.com/EyeEm (EyeEm)

Back cover and Interior photos: white dog reaching courtesy of iStockphoto.com/GlobalP (GlobalP), Boston Terrier courtesy of iStockphoto.com/vauvau (vauvau), puppy with ball courtesy of iStockphoto.com/GlobalP (GlobalP), dog holding leash courtesy of iStockphoto.com/PK-Photos (PK-Photos)

Photo of Amy Newmark courtesy of Susan Morrow at SwickPix

Cover and Interior by Daniel Zaccari

Distributed to the booktrade by Simon & Schuster. SAN: 200-2442

Publishers Cataloging-In-Publication Data

(Prepared by The Donohue Group, Inc.)

Names: Newmark, Amy, compiler.

Title: Chicken soup for the soul : the magic of dogs : 101 tales of family, friendship & fun / [compiled by] Amy Newmark.

Other Titles: Magic of dogs : 101 tales of family, friendship & fun

Description: [Cos Cob, Connecticut] : Chicken Soup for the Soul, LLC, [2020]

Identifiers: ISBN 9781611590678 | ISBN 9781611593020 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Dogs--Literary collections. | Dogs--Anecdotes. | Human-animal relationships--Literary collections. | Human-animal relationships--Anecdotes. | Dog owners--Literary collections. | Dog owners--Anecdotes. | LCGFT: Anecdotes.

Classification: LCC SF426.2 .C455 2020 (print) | SF426.2 (ebook) | DDC 636.7/088/7/02--dc23

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020933855

Changing the world one story at a time

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Magical Miraculous Dogs

Hope in Red

The bond with a true dog is as lasting as the ties of this earth will ever be.

~Konrad Lorenz

W e were newlyweds and cash was tight, so Genie and I moved into our first and what would turn out to be our only house under a rent-to-own arrangement. Of course, if we decided not to buy the house, wed be required to move out, leaving it in the same condition as when wed moved in. Problem was, no one told Ruby that was the deal.

Ruby was a red-and-white Border Collie, which is rare; most Border Collies are black-and-white. When I say red, I really mean chestnut. Thats important because Genie also had striking, chestnut-colored hair. Genies hair was long and glorious, and it really flamed red when the sun hit it.

Maybe their shared color was why Genie picked Ruby from a litter of eight.

Ruby was only six weeks old and not much larger than a guinea pig when she first stepped into the house. She seemed far too young and way too small to be making decorating decisions. Yet she started assessing the house. The only thing she lacked was a clipboard.

Now assessing and acting are two different things, so we didnt worry about it initially. But Ruby started making changes without consulting us. Maybe she knew wed object, and Border Collies dont like being told theyre wrong. Ruby lived up to the notion that Border Collies are the smartest dog breed. She had no problem outfoxing us.

Even before the candles on her Welcome Home cake had burned out, Ruby had taken down wallpaper and removed copious amounts of wood trim. She started in unused rooms that were out of our flight path. We simply didnt see what she was doing.

She slept under a certain bed in a spare room. She removed the carpet under that bed, but only when Genie and I were out of the house. We never figured out why. Was the carpet too soft or did it make her sneeze?

Neither Genie nor I loved the house. It wasnt a style we would have bought, but because of Rubys changes, we did buy it. We had to. It would have cost too much to fix all that she had, uh, changed. Did we discipline her? No. We merely acquiesced, and we wound up staying in that house for the rest of our marriage, some twenty years. We made it our house, with even more of Rubys decorating assistance. Looking back on it, I see it was one of the smartest things we ever did.

Ruby had other peculiar traits, such as chasing flying geese. Not cats, dogs or geese milling around on the ground. Nope. It had to be flying geese, those already in the air. It started in our unfenced back yard one day when a skein of geese flew overhead. They squawked, which caught Rubys attention. In a flash of red, she took off and kept running, even with us calling and chasing her. She ran as fast as the wind. We lost sight of her as she ran through the woods behind our house.

She always came back after her fruitless goose chases. And she never gave up, even when she got older and arthritis moved into her joints.

One day, Genie asked, Doesnt she realize shes not going to catch them? Why does she keep running so hard? Its got to hurt.

I thought a minute. I dont think its about catching them. I think theyre a guide.

For what?

Maybe its about getting to the other side of the horizon, I said. Maybe if we can get there, we can leave this world behind and know peace.

What? Like heaven? If only, Genie said.

A few years later, Genie was diagnosed with breast cancer. After having a mastectomy and enduring chemotherapy, she was declared cancer-free. We kept our fingers crossed.

A year later, Ruby died, with no indication that anything was wrong. She simply dropped dead. In fact, the day before shed run after the geese that flew by.

Genie and I had seen other dogs get sick and die. We knew how ugly things could get, protracted and painful. But like with everything else involving Ruby, she did it her way. There was no lingering or suffering. She just blew past all that.

Occasionally, Genie and I talked about Rubys life and death. Genie would say, Maybe Ruby wanted to make sure she knew the route to take. You know, to get to heaven. Genie had never been a big believer in religion, but having cancer changed things.

A few years later, Genies cancer came back. It was now an aggressive killer. All the treatments failed.

On the afternoon she started hospice, I found Genie standing at the window. She always had to see nature.

Without turning, she said, I havent seen any flying geese in a long time.