A year of being Mindy's human

This past year has been full of delightful new experiences despite that at times Mindy scares the hell out of me.  She has such paranoia of city sidewalk grates she will veer into the road and risk a rolling MBTA bus before walking over the grate.  Really.  Now I know to pick her up and carry her safely across.

On a trail walk she seemingly vanishes. But it’s an optical illusion. One second she is right behind me, the next second - gone.  In reality she has stealthily slipped by me on her tiny legs effectively morphing through a low blind spot.  I panic and back track looking for her until I realize she is right in front of me.

A pretty little pooch despite freakishly short legs Mindy is blessed with a permanent smile regardless of her mood that is actually a pretty constant state of “What do you have? I want it.”


She is so irresistibly cute even supermarket employees ignore obvious health code violations when Mindy accompanies me on quick trips for the essentials.

And on trips to the bank she is on a first name basis with the teller at the window where she makes her treat withdrawal.

She is the subject of countless viral You Tube videos (be sure to click the links), social media posts and #MindyMadness memes where she is not shy expressing her liberal political views and social justice agenda. Or some days just being a bit silly.

A corgi is simply a very special kind of dog that can only own a special kind of human.  How lucky am I?!

She is smart, very smart.  And yes, she barks. She barks a lot, loudly.  But she is communicating.  I have learned to understand her every command from the most basic to the complex of her boarder line multiple personality disorder.

“Feed me!”

“Take me out!”

“Throw the ball!”

“Throw the ball again!”

“Throw the ball again damn it to hell!”

“Scratch me behind the ears!”

“What the hell?! Why did you stop? Continue!”

“Don’t you dare rub my belly!”

“Rub my belly again. I dare you!”

“Is that cookie? Give me that cookie!”

“Are those car keys in your hand? Take me for a ride!”

She hates the vacuum but not in the fearful way you might expect from a small animal confronted by a big loud mechanical thing. She runs right toward it barking ferociously and tearing at the beater bar with her gnarly teeth. As counter productive to cleaning as it may be it's pretty damn funny to watch.

It wasn't until spring that I learned about her obsession with the garden hose.  I was attempting to water the plants and Mindy jumped into the blasting stream of water yelping with delight.  I had never seen anything like it, but really she has been amazing me with her antics ever since she got here. 

Like teaching me  how to throw the ball, an activity other dog humans call “fetch.”  But who’s fooling who?  Mindy brings the ball to me, drops it at my feet, nudges it at me with her nose, then sits back and waits for me to throw it.  She brings it back and repeats the routine till I get it right.

And who knew a dog with legs hardly six inches tall would do the “gimmie your paw” stunt?  It just never occurred to me until a little kid came over and was low enough to the floor to ask Mindy for a paw.  She complied easily and looked at me as if to say, “What the hell have you been waiting for?”

I messaged my amazement to her previous human who suggested I ask for the other paw.  Sure enough Mindy doubled down on that parlor trick and gave up both front paws.

The first time she lowered the passenger window in the car I thought it was a fluke.  But I soon discovered the battle for the wind.  Since the child lock only impedes the rear door control panels and Mindy sits shot gun, my desire to conserve heat or air conditioning competes with Mindy’s desire to hang her head out the window.

I message her pervious human again and she messages me back “ha, ha. Girl knows exactly what she is doing.”

I owe such a debt of gratitude to that human being - Jen Brouillette. She raised this precious girl for eight years until changes in her life forced her to give Mindy up one year ago on the day after Thanksgiving.  Jen was moving - like the next day moving.  And the first family that agreed to take the dog brought her back.  They clearly lacked the intellect to have a dog like Mindy.  If I didn’t come that night the only alternative for Jen would have been to leave Mindy at the animal shelter.

Tipped off by a mutual friend I called Jen and we met for the first time in the darkened driveway of her cottage already packed for the move.  She handed me her beloved pet, a leash and a dog bed.

“She will go with anyone,” Jen said putting on a brave face. But I wasn't just "anyone."

I had to leave quickly. A prolonged good bye wouldn't do. Backing away the last image I saw of Jen was framed in the solitary warm glow of a bare kitchen window. She fell into the arms of her roommate and sobbed.  I’m pretty sure it was among the hardest things she had ever done.

A year later she can be confident it was the right thing to do even while I have neighbors who would argue otherwise.  Mindy is the self-proclaimed queen of the house. She is a companion to my 93-year-old mother who often doesn’t know who I am but calls the dog by her name. 

My daughter who is away at college has me text photos of Mindy on a regular basis to brighten her day. Mindy has become a bit of a celebrity on campus where she is an unofficial mascot of the Dartmouth Rockapellas.  When I brought her to campus on parents weekend I was flocked by a group of giddy sophomore girls I had never seen before in my life but they recognized Mindy instantly and had to pose with her for photos. 

She still has food aggression and despite that Dori is three times her size, Mindy maimed her big lab sister over a piece of broccoli that dropped to the kitchen floor between them. Nothing a little Neosporin couldn’t fix. We are more careful now when cutting vegetables at the counter.

She is otherwise a great friend to Dori who has been gracious and accommodating . The two of them take trail walks and beach walks and play in the yard where they compete for the ball or the Frisbee or what ever is being thrown and after the broccoli experience Dori pretty much lets Mindy win most of the time.

The arrival of a new kitten gave Mindy a chance to engage her herding instincts. Fiona has become a herd of one that Mindy protects from our big gray tabby BooBoo who has no patience for the kitten. But when ever BooBoo hisses or swats at Fiona, Mindy runs to the kitten’s defense.

Mindy is much loved in her new home but far from forgotten by her first human. I send regular updates about her antics and photos of her adventures. And late last summer Jen finally came for a visit. Mindy was ecstatic to see her They played ball in the yard and chilled with me on the porch. I think it made them both feel better. We hope she comes again.