Abe's Blog

I have become a “dog person.” I am quite surprised by this fact. When I was a young wife with four growing children, I just never quite pictured myself as a 50-year-old dog lover. But as my energy level wanes a bit and I have more time to indulge in quiet things like long walks and thick books, I am beginning to truly enjoy the loyal companionship and whimsical friendship of my dogs.

Typically, Kirkhaven is the realm of poodles. Very small, delicate poodles. They lounge on your lap. They nap in your arms. They snuggle at your shoulder as you sit on the couch reading a book or watching a movie. They enjoy a short traipse through the daisy meadow and gleefully chase turkeys if such serendipity arises. Poodles gaze deeply into your heart. They lick you gently on the nose. Their loyalty and intelligence is rooted in their ancient breeding as hunting dogs. Their mission at Kirkhaven is to joyfully greet every visitor and lavishly rest with all who enter our doors. They lie quietly as you stroke their soft, curly fur and totally convince you that THIS is the important moment of your day.

But a new age is dawning at Kirkhaven. Abe is coming to town. Things are truly about to change around here. If you haven’t met this endearing soul, it will be difficult for you to fully grasp the immense impact he is going to have on our tranquil home. Abe spent last summer with us when Dave came home for summer break. I totally know what we are getting into this time. I don’t think I will tell the poodles that Abe is coming.

Abe is a dog. Just like my poodles. Abe also has ancestral hunting blood running through his veins. Just like my poodles. Abe is well-meaning and genial. Just like my poodles. Mmmm . . . let me see . . . that’s about it. Yup. That’s all Abe has in common with the poodles. Everything else about this German Short-haired huntin’ dawg is utterly unpoodle-ish.

My son Dave, recently graduated from North Dakota State University, is bringing Abe home to us. Dave will be marrying his lovely bride, Rachel, in the back yard of our Tennessee hill-top home on July 3rd. Then Dave, Rach, and Abe will be settling into the “Kirkhaven Cottage” to begin their life-journey together. I will get to spend a lot of time with this energetic dog. I am quite looking forward to it. I think.

What Abe Looks Like:

Abe has a rich, shiny liver coat. The white patch on his chest makes him look a little like he is wearing a tuxedo. His eyes have that doleful expression that makes you want to kiss him right on the snout. Which you really shouldn’t do. He will kiss you back.

Abe’s Joy: Abe is 70 long-legged pounds of pure, bird-dog energy. He doesn’t traipse through daisy patches like poodles do. He bounds. His long, floppy ears haphazardly flap in the wind as he barrels across the rolling fields on our East Tennessee ridge-top. He dives into the woods if he smells something interesting. He streaks and zig-zags through the tall grass following every scent and alerting to every wildlife happenstance. He is so exuberant in his freedom that even your own heart begins to swell with joy as you watch his unbridled galloping . Then he usually makes a final sharp turn and plows through every flower bed on his way to the swimming pool. It is pretty much impossible to stop him, even if you think you have the advantage of a head-start. Neither wildly flinging arms, nor strongly yelled rebukes, nor any feeble attempts to block his way will prevent Abe from diving into the pool. I have tried them all. Especially on muddy days. It is a simple fact: Abe is deaf and unavailable to all forms of communication when he is rejoicing.

Abe’s Devotion:

Abe is devoted to his people. Especially to Dave. No one is a “stranger” to Abe, and he is generous and lavish in his affection. Actually he expresses himself in much the same way as poodles do . . . only more gangly. He, too, wants to spend time with you. And nap with you. And relax in the quietness of your friendship. It’s just that he is much heavier than a poodle . . . and has slightly less manners. And Abe snores.

Abe’s Melancholy:

Abe doesn’t like to be alone. That’s really his only serious personality flaw. He will eat through any fence. Scratch through any door. Dig deep holes. He will do whatever it takes to be reunited with his people. It is one of the saddest sounds in the world when Abe . . . all alone in his dog pen . . . starts his mournful howling. “Sounds like a dang hound dog,” is how Dave describes it.

I am looking forward to seeing ol’ Abe again. We will take walks together. We will play fetch in the west meadow. And we will sit on the loggia on really hot days while everyone else is at work. Someone else will have to scold him for ignoring commands and for digging holes and for howling. That won’t be my responsibility. Abe and I will simply enjoy each other. I don’t have any grandchildren. I suppose Abe is my grand-dog.

Perhaps the poodles will learn to love Abe, too. In spite of his lack of manners.

Psalms 46:10-11
Lesa K. Reid