Memory Well: When Shadow Met Tawny

I went into the office again today - it was the first time since Mom went back to Utah.  Moose was naturally devastated (well, he was devastated between long naps), and he had his normal reaction to being parted from his Mama for more than 5 minutes (even if it's just in sleep) - my normally sedate (to the point of indolence) boy becomes a whirling dervish, determined to hump some body part - any body part.  He settles down fairly quickly, but it reminded me of Shadow.

Shadow in his "I rule this roost" pose - if you look up on Mom's lap, you get a glimpse of Tawny

Shadow was Mom's first dachshund, and I think the reason why we fixated on a) doxies and b) rescue dogs.  He had been found abandoned in a ditch as a tiny pup - half starved and with cracked ribs - and nursed back to health by a wonderful older couple, but they were taking off around the country in a motor home, and Shadow couldn't bring himself to trust the male half of the couple long enough to be lifted up into the home (and the female couldn't lift him.)  So, he came to Mom...  lucky, lucky dog.  Mom loved him like he was my brother - well, for all intents and purposes, he was.  In fact, he chewed up the seatbelts in the back of her new car, and got in less trouble for it than I did when I got into a car accident that was ABSOLUTELY not my fault.  But sibling rivalry issues aside...

Shadow normally was very comfortable living a sensible old man's life.  He had his rounds (the condo Mom lived in had a puppy happy hour every evening, where they would go visiting, collecting snacks from the neighbors), his comfy spots, his routine.  But then he met Tawny. 

I know - Frank from Men in Black, right?  But without the personality.

You know how sometimes they say that pugs are so ugly they are cute?  Tawny never quite made the cute stage.  But to Shadow, she was Botticelli's Venus, rising from the waves.  Apparently, she was in heat when they first met - about to be taken to the vet to take care of that sort of thing - and though Shadow had been... let's say de-interested in that sort of thing as a pup, she brought back species memories in him.  Boy did she bring back species memories.  The problem was that while his body was willing, his mind had no freaking clue about the whole process. 

He would spy Tawny from across the room, lumber over and commence to humping as though his life depended on it.  Now, I'm not saying that he was productively humping - 9 times out of 10, he would come in from the side, or the front, or the bottom, or anyway but standard doggy-style, but he was giving it the old college try.  For about 15 seconds.  Then he would forget what he was doing, wander off to get some kibble, or bask in the sun, or whatever, until 10 or 15 minutes later, he would notice her again, and the whole process repeated. For her part, Tawny mostly just seemed to regard him as a hazard that had to be dealt with in order to visit Mom, who had a superior level of treats.  I'm not sure what this says about the relationship between man and woman (or mutt and bitch, even).  But the memory can still make me giggle, so...