“Thump!  Thump!  Thump!”  I say that to my favorite dog.  And his tail just wags faster and harder.  Tilla has had other names in the past:  the loveable mutt was first called Atilla The Hun, now shortened to Tilla.  Then the Olympian.  He the was the only dog athletic enough to clear our fence forcing us to build it higher the next year.  He tried then right away to go over but bounced right off it and did not try again.  He is a lovable rogue. I am sure he will earn other names as time goes by.  He is the same dog that never forgot being chained to the table twice when we were punishing him.  You can not keep a leash near him:  he will simply chew through it so leashes are kept out of his reach.  He never forgets.  Right now I feel sorry for him for he is limping slightly.  The vet says he has a torn tendon.  I am hoping we can correct that in the future.  Anyway, he is my dog.  I won him over by giving belly rubs almost any time he wants one and he loves his sporadic walks I give him.  I love him with all my heart and soul.  I never thought any dog would replace Daisy–a black mutt I had since she was a puppy but he has.  Dogs don’t live forever so I will enjoy him now.  Everything is by grace.

Tilla gave me a wonderful greeting.  I had been gone seven days.  My dog jumped up and down frantically licking my face repeatedly.  And when we went to bed, my wife took the right side and Tilla jumped up and sat on the left side.  He had not been on the bed the days I was gone.  I got in and fell asleep cheek to cheek with Tilla.

“Cool Hand Luke”, my black cat I owned before even I married my wife.  Nothing seems to faze her, thus the name.  She is the only animal left from that period, nine years ago.  She is one of the few cats who will cozy up to me.  She is affectionate.  She has some idiosyncrasies:  she likes to go through doors.  Open one, she will dash through and seconds later she might run back in.  She also likes to knock down things in her way.  Sometimes she will be on the window ledge and knock down everything in front of her.  She does not get along too well with all the other cats (we have seven) although she can be aggressive.  If you put out new cat food she is usually the first cat to hop on the counter.  Oddly enough the other two animals I brought into this marriage were both black.  I miss both of them, especially Daisy, the first dog I ever raised from a pup and also trained.  When we were in the same room, her eyes never left me.  She was my dog.

I woke up in the middle of the night and Tilla one of my pups was asleep right next to me again.  I never thought another dog would come along who I would love as deeply as Daisy, now gone over three years.

Daisy was the first dog I raised from a pup.  She was one stubborn dog.  I finally decided to train her when I broke the front door window for the third time.  She would go berserk whenever I was about to leave the house.  She scared me and I slammed the door again breaking the glass.

It took infinite patience to train her to stop barking uncontrollably every time I was about to leave the house.  I would clamp my hands over her snout when she barked.  If she stopped, I praised her.  Otherwise I said nothing.

I repeated this technique umpteen times.  I knew I had succeeded when all I had to do when she barked was “shush” her and she would stop immediately.

It also took a long time to train her to sleep in the corner of the bed.  She would want to sleep too closely to me.  I must have pushed her away from me dozens of times in bed before she started sleeping at my feet.

My wife was always amazed that now she would automatically sleep at my feet at the furthest reaches of the bed.

When I was in the house her eyes never left me.  She was my dog.  She finally died and I missed her terribly.  And I thought that there would never be a another dog like her.

Well, Tilla came along.  We were down to one dog and someone gave us a young female golden retriever.  And you know the rest of the story:  she got pregnant before we could fix her.  And Tilla was one of her puppies.

Tilla as opposed to Daisy wanted to please.  We had our own set of problems with him.  Tilla was the only dog athletic enough to  jump the fence we had erected and finally at great expense we had it built higher.  He also had a bad habit of pooping in the dining room every night.

He is the only dog of ours who prompted a visit from the local dog warden when a neighbor complained about one of his escapades.

He was a scoundrel and was the most aggressive of our four dogs yet paradoxically was timid when it came to other humans except us.  He will be three next July.

Tilla did certain things to endear him to me.  He loved getting belly rubs and would turn over on a dime for that privilege.  Whenever he was waiting for me to let him out he would twirl rapidly in almost perfect circles.  He was the only dog to do that of our four.

I started giving him special walks because for a while he was the only dog we could not let loose in the yard.  He can’t replace Daisy but he has come close.  And he came when I least expected it.  He has captured my heart.

Everything is by grace.  The first dog I ever raised from a pup, “Daisy”, who died over two years ago, I missed terribly.  She was one stubborn dog and the first one that I trained.  And I trained her when she was an adult.

Her training started when I got tired of replacing broken windows in our front door.  “Daisy” would go crazy every time I left my house.  She would jump at me repeatedly and bark uncontrollably.  When she startled me once and I slammed my front door a little too hard cracking the window again, I decided despite her age it was time to do something about it.

Every time she barked at me when I was leaving the house, I would put my hands around her snout and keep them there for a short time.  When I released my hands, if she then barked I did nothing but if she did not bark I praised her.  I repeated this technique countless times.  Finally at some point I realized I broke her of the habit of barking at me frantically every time I left the house.  All I had to do was “Shush” her and she would immediately quiet down.

My wife was amazed that when she slept on our bed she would go to the furthest most corner and curl up.  She had no idea how many countless times I had pushed her away from me.

Daisy would never take her eyes off of me when I was in the same room.  She was my dog and when she died I missed her terribly.  I never thought another dog would come along like her.

Well, one did, finally to my surprise:  “Atilla The Hun” or “Tilla” for short.  Unlike “Daisy” he was very eager to please.  He was just very undisciplined.  I never had a dog that would want so many belly rubs.  I, almost, never denied him.  It was hilarious.  He would turn over every time I went to bring him in the house.  The turning point with him was when I started giving him walks.

I knew he had become my “Dog” when just about every night he would join me in the bedroom and usually curl up at the base of my bed.  He is not “Daisy” by any means but I realized God had sent me another dog.  Everything is by grace.