The 14 year old service dog stretched his old black, white and liver body after waking form his long nap. He looked around the bed expecting to to see his self appointed charge, Phia, to still be sleeping, but she was not on the bed.
Tacks, the service dog jumped off the bed to scurry on the slippery wood floor. Where is Phia? I must find the little girl.
The old dog looked through the glass on the French doors that open to the patio. No, the 2 year old was not there, either.
He frantically rushed to the front door. Maybe the little tyke was in the lanudry room with Nanna.
He barked for the girl. There was no reply.
Then he barked again, then nosed the man’s hand and pawed his knee.
His man, the one for whom he works for, snapped with annoyance. “Shut-up Tacks. There is no one at the door.”
The dog’s eye got bigger and bigger. He looked under his man’s bed and in the chair where Phia might sit to watch TV with Nanna.
Phi-a-a-a-! the dog barked with a frenzy.
Full blown anxiety set into Attacks With Love, the service dog. He ebgan to cry, as dogs sometimes do when they love so very much. Tacks felt he had failed his self-appointed babysitting job he has one day a week with his man’s niece and Nanna’s grand daughter. That lively little person needs him. He did not know why he could not find her. she had been sleeping safely and soundly in Nanna’s bed.
Phia, where are you? I love you little one?
Tacks turned to Nanna hoping she would not dispaooint his. He nosed her arm with his cold wet nose. He nosed her arm, again.
“Hey, Buddy,what is up?” Nanna scratched the favorite spot behind the dogs ears. “Do you need to go potty? Go get your leash. I will take outside.”
Nanna asked David, the man, if he knew what his service dog’s unusual problem was. Neither adult human had any idea why the dog was so upset.
Nanna and dog walked outside. Scratch that. The dog ran fast as he sniffed the ground like he was a blood hound searching for an escaped prisoner. He about pulled Nanna’s arm out of the socket trying to get to the parking spot where Phia’s mom parks her car when Phia comes to his house.
He had not seen her leave, so she stll must be here.
Phia-a-a-! Phia! Ph-i-a-a-a! PHI-A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tacks whined loud and clear at the pain that stabbed him straight though the heart. He did not understand why Nanna did not respond to his cries for the child. She should be holding her hand.
Tacks’ odd behavior went on for over 24 hours. He would fall asleep, as old dogs tend to do. He would then awaken with a start. He would move as fast and furrious as he could from room to room in search of Phia. He even pulled all of the bedding off of Nanna’s bed hunting for the girl. (Nanna’s was not amused, but still did not get it. Phia had disappeared.)
Finally, Tacks got a brilliant idea. He found one of Phia’s little pink socks hidden under bed. He picked up the cotton object in his mouth to carry it to his man.
“Mom, I think Tacks has Phia’s sock.”
The old gentleman dog dropped the slobbery sock to pant. His tongue hanging out of his mouth dripped slobber on the wood floors.
“David, I think I know what his panic attack is all about. Hand me the phone, please.”
Nanna called Phia’s mother. “Hey, you will never guess what Tacks has been doing. Tacks did not say goodbye to Phia when she left the other day. I think he misses her. Can you put Phia on the speaker phone? Tell her to say something to Tacks.”
Suprisingly Sophia talked at the phone so the dog could hear her.
“Hi Tacks! Are you a good dog?” The high pitched little voice came over the speaker.
Tacks’ head turned to sound of the soft voice. His ears perked up. He smiled a big smile. (Yes, this dog smiles, and winks.)
Phia sang one of her little songs to her so-called baby-sitter the not so frantic, anymore, old dog. It sounded like Tacks was humming under his breath with the Twitnkle Little Star.
The baby-sitter seemd to relax his tired old body.
David rolled his wheel chair closer to his faithful service dog. “Buddy, I am sorry that I did not understand your problem. You missed Sophia, didn’t you? I know, Phia is so much fun to play with isn’t she? I miss her, too, boy.”
Attacks With Love, the service dog was calm, once again. He had found the little girl to be safe and sound. All was right with the world, now. He laid his head on his man’s lap to absord as much lovin’ as one dog could absorb.
The old dog was ready to rest from the trauma of the missing child. He pulled the baby blanket that he and the two year had compeated against for the last year, on to his dog bed. The weary worn dog gently laid his head on the Phia scented blanket. His brown eyes closed within the tear stained fur.
Attacks with Love could rest, now. The lost was found. She was safe. He knew she would be back one day, soon, so he could baby-sit the little girl as best as any service dog could. He was dog that lived to love; love with his whole heart.
This is how I, Malika Bourne the No Non-cents Nanna interpreted the service dog’s strange anixous behavior. The phone call, where Tacks could her that the 2 year old was alive and well, calmed him down.
I never would have thought there could ever be a real live dog as protective as Lassie.
Now it is your turn
Do you have a dog who loves you so much?
7/16/14 Update. Sadly Attacks with Love passed away in Feburary 2014 atan aproximate age of 16.RIP Buddy!
Source: Nanna’s Spot (Archive)