I had spent three whole years trying to get my husband to allow me to have a dog.  Every time that I brought up the subject he would refuse.   Coming from a different culture, he stayed steadfast in his belief that animals were not meant to come into the home.  Animals were meant to remain outside and of course that was not a possibility in Canada, especially during the long cold winters.  Finally after three years I had convinced him that I would take complete responsibility for the dog and it would be a good experience for our young son to have a dog of his own.  Taffy??™s stay with us was short lived.  She could not remain alone in the house and since both of us worked all day, Taffy would bark all day and annoy the landlord who owned the grocery store below us.  He told us that we had to do something about the dog.  We had no other choice but to find Taffy another home. 

Even though I only had Taffy for a week I was heartbroken.   Once again I was without a dog.  It appeared that my husband??™s love for me was much greater than his intolerance for animals and much to my surprise this time he suggested that we get another dog.  Only now we would have to be more selective in our choice.

Again my uncle came to my rescue.  He had a friend that had two Pomeranians.  The friend was leaving the country and could not take his dogs with him.  My aunt took Kim, the female Pom and I was fortunate enough to get the Sparkey, the father.  Kim was temperamental and did not like many people.  I believed that I lucked out by getting the better tempered dog.  Sparkey was an angel.  He was gentle and kind.  He was very quiet and very obedient.  Apparently, he was also used to sleeping on the bed.  The first night that Sparkey jumped up on our bed my husband took a fit.  He said he had to draw the line somewhere. It was already enough for him to have a dog in the house but no dog was going to be given the privileges that should only be extended to humans.    He didn??™t care how Canadians lived it was not about to happen in his house.  Within a week Sparkey was sleeping on the bed and my husband would call him up if he hadn??™t already jumped up on his own. However my husband still would not do anything for the dog.  That remained my responsibility. 

My son loved the dog.  I was happy that my 3-year-old was finally enjoying all the pleasures that I received as a child by owning a dog.  My son wanted to take the dog everywhere with us and whenever we could we would. 

Although Sparkey was completely housebroken, if he saw a newspaper he would do his business on it ??“ a flashback from his training days no doubt.   It never bothered us though, he was so good  

It was Saint Patrick??™s Day here in Montreal and my husband, my little boy, and I went to the parade.  Of course we took Sparkey with us.  Sparkey, the angel that he was just sat there quietly as we all watched the parade.   When you stand on the sidewalk watching the parade go by people are coming and going all the time while trying to find a good vantage point to view the parade. 

A gentleman came and stood beside us.  I remember that he wore a canvass pair of white shoes speckled with black.  These shoes must have looked like newspaper to poor old Sparkey because as soon as the man stood beside us Sparkey lifted up his leg and you can guess the rest.  I was dumbfounded; I didn??™t know what to say.  The man looked at the dog, looked at my husband, looked at me and looked down at his shoe.  Then even more shocking the man looked at me one more time   and then just walked away.  Honestly I was speechless I was so surprised at Sparkey that I didn??™t know what to say.  My husband had been so involved in the parade while holding our son on his shoulders that he never paid any attention to the situation at hand.   When I told him what happened he just busted out laughing. I couldn??™t contain myself I busted out laughing as well.   I am sure the crowd thought we were crazy people.  But Sparkey provided us with a Saint Patrick??™s Day that we will never forget. 

Carol Roach

winterose@videotron.ca,

Carol Roach is a published writer and newsletter editor.  You can purchase her book: Picking Up The Pieces: A Woman's Journey at www.publishamerica.com, or www.amazon.com.  You can also go to your local bookstore and order it there as well.  If you are interested in other stories feel free to join her newsletter: Storytime Tapestry at: storytime_tapestry-subscribe@yahoogroups.com, or email her directly at winterose@videtron.ca and she will be glad to accomodate you.  Carol enjoys email and responds to every inquiry.