The local pet store was hosting a photo opportunity with Santa, so I decided to bring Lynda along. She had a great Jingle Bell sash that would look great in a photo.
When we arrived, we stopped by the grooming salon to say hello to her groomer, Jesus, and the gang. She loves seeing them, and they always take really good care of her.
While we waited our turn to see Santa, lots of yappy dogs in cute outfits barked at her incessantly. Ms. Lynda just wagged her tail and stayed mellow.
Only when she saw Santa did she freak out. She saw the guy in the red suit and her look said, “Let’s go home. Now!”
Santa was great. Very patient and accommodating. But the resulting picture said it all. She had enough.
While we stood in line, several people remarked on how cute Lynda was and asked, “What kind of dog is she?”
Having encountered this before, I smiled and politely replied that, with her long ears, there’s probably some beagle running around in there. Probably more, but she’s just a dog. A wonderful dog.
During one visit, her vet admired her ears and asked if I had ever considered a genetic test. I thought about it for a minute, but what would it do? Lynda had a whole bunch of breeds in her DNA. It’s not essential to who she is. She’s my baby, and I love her.
My cats, Rudy and River, have pedigrees that are, “I’m a cat.” Rudy is a Siamese mix who patrols the house to ensure that everything is okay. River is a lovable, mischievous cat who knows how to work her cuteness. I’m not sure that there is a genetic test that could decipher her DNA.
As I stood in line with Lynda, I watched other dogs bark their heads off at her, trying to justify their importance. She just wagged her tail, acknowledging them and accepting them for who they are.
Unconditional love doesn’t depend on what we are. Who we are matters.
