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 Dogs don't get enough time, but they surely understand with their selfless love, if somebody become an “irremediably dog-dependent” for a life. Zorka was the successor of my childhood's Buksi, after the mourning time. I already missed a cold, wet nose and a pair of dropping ears, and we took home the puppy that had chosen us, without any scientific consideration. Accepting a dog of course is difficulty, reponsibility and it is losing its hair, but I thanked many friendships and adventures for her during 10 years. And a litter of puppies, one of them now easing her lack. Zorka was a female Golden Retriever, a pacifist, who saw the “two-leggeds” around her with absolute confidence. She only bared her teeth at another dogs, if they adore her femininity too close. Most “dangerous” of her were her great paws, with which she could get anybody to pet her long time. She revealed fastly during walks that a master belongs to every dogs, and she surely can conquer this handler's heart. She also run at park benches to make friends with the sitting people. She knew the words of command, but her love towards humans would be kept in hand difficultly. Perhaps one time, when we took home my newborn son from the hospital, see a disapproving glance of her: she thought this another member of the family is totally unnecessary here. With graying face she remained still a playful, quick bitch: a few week ago she wrestled with her daughter on the lawn. Then she became ill, but saw us with the same love, optimism, joyful “dog-smile”, seen by only initiated people. Perhaps I wasn't take seriously that I could lose her, although it is fear of every master, whose life shared with a dog. And after a week I was late: she didn't wait for me. It is said if a dog loves somebody, does and shows it earnestly. But I'm more feeble that now I'm bearing not grudge that she's retrieving the celestial field's pheasant for others. Now I'm really missing 25 kilograms of love sleeping under the table, the usual noises of dog's claws on the floor, when I open the bread bin. Walkings aren't the same without her. I'm waiting for her usual circle in the neighbouring sport shop, and then ask from me the advertising magazin to take up between her teeth. My other, orphaned dog is confusedly looking for her mother who gave her a sure basic point in the world of humans, knew the meaning of master's voices. Now if Kajsa is walking next to my legs, carefully leaving space for a dog. It is said to masters and pets similar to each other. I hope that I resemble to her a little bit. |
 
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