There is a proliferation of dogs all around the lake and our particular village is well represented. At any given time driving down the lake road, it’s pretty common to see grandma, grandchild and canine shuffling, sniffing, peeing, pooping or generally enjoying the day. The dogs seem to get into it as well.

In our vicinity, there are families who drag their dogs out to the lake and often leave them on shore while they splash around in the water or go for boat rides. This causes great consternation for Rover and all us neighbours hear the protests. One mutt in particular barks like a seal either in heat, or in dire need of a fish and usually carries on for a good 15 minutes straight before throat lozenges are required.

Right around “the compound” we’ve got a couple of cute shelties on the one side who take great pleasure in telling me that I’m not allowed in my own yard. Up close, they certainly are cute and friendly, but they are very offended by me and our hound. On the other side we have Ernie, a magnificent golden retriever, who as a working dog for Garry our sight-deprived friend, takes him on disciplined walks by day and becomes a 60 pound squirming love-sponge who prefers to plop himself on various laps by night. Ernie sheds enough hair to weave several carpets and actually rivals the disappearance of my own pelt, though his has the ability to grow back.

In our own house we are down to one dog, Patches, who at one time was part of a “three stooges” routine, consisting of his brother Sammy and his stepbrother Jasper. Being the middle child, he often was the ignored one, while Sam and Jasper duked it out for alpha-dog status. Alas though, as things go, Sammy and Jasper left us. One was the best dog I ever had and departed way too soon, while the other tough little nut prolonged his life through various health battles to its absolute maximum.

Now one would think that Patch would miss his brothers, but as reality sunk in… he became top dog and from what we can gather, those other two should have been dead a long time ago. Such is the way with a housemate with a walnut sized brain. Being a diabetic and getting shots twice a day hasn’t slowed him down, nor has his rapidly diminishing eyesight. He is certainly the most primal of our dogs and would certainly chew his way through a door to get his jerky treat. He has also been known, when we are outside, to graze through the garbage buffet under our sink or… when we are inside, fake a request to do his business in the yard so he can obtain his just reward. Given that he “plants flowers’” like a Saint Bernard out there (not bad for a 12 pound dog), we are often sucked in.

All in all, he is probably more a handful than when we had three of ‘em but as he is the last dog standing, he does get special status. My child bride obviously bends to his every whim, while I of course am the bad cop who denies him everything. Pigeon Lake is certainly his favourite place in the world, where there are tons of things to sniff and roll in…where dodging cars isn’t quite so much of an issue and where there are lots of people around to lavish praise and well placed scratches. Given their special place in our world out here, our dogs are on permanent vacation (except for Ernie) and if I come back as a dog, this is the place I would choose to howl.