WE KNEW she liked us. We were pretty sure she loved us. But with one stare, Duchess proved she had adopted us as family.
For those joining us late, Duchess is the beautiful black dog we adopted six months ago and a semi-finalist for the title of Shyest Dog in the World. She spends a lot of her time with Heather, some of her time with me and as little time as she can manage with strangers.
Which is why The Dog Incident caught us a little off guard.
Heather had taken Duchess into the back yard for her evening run when she heard high-pitched barking. Sure enough, a little yap dog — I mean, lap dog — had slipped in through the fence and was coming over to Heather. Nothing vicious, just a lot of energy in a small package.
And then, as it got closer, the visitor noticed Duchess.
More to the point, it noticed the Duchess Stare.
The stare usually gets reserved for trespassing rabbits, on the few occasions when Duchess sees them before they see her. This time, as Heather watched, it was unmistakable.
There were no growls. No bearing of teeth. None was needed. Just that focused, intense stare that said all there was to say:
“This is MY person. This is MY yard. Kindly leave. Now.”
The mini-visitor kept its distance. Barked a few more times. And then vacated.
Granted, this isn’t going on “Wild Kingdom” any time soon. For a border collie/lab mix, facing down a yap-dog is sort of like Indiana Jones confronting Danny DeVito. But the key point still stands.
For Duchess. This had become home. Heather had become part of the pack. And nobody was going to mess with either one.
Like I said, family.
In the strictly biological sense, family is the easiest thing in the world to define. Somebody shares your bloodline, your genes, they’re family. Like ‘em or not, you’re stuck with them.
But from another angle, family becomes a fuzzier thing — and I’m not referring to a certain dog’s soon-to-be-brushed hair. We’ve all had families that go beyond the strictly genealogical. It might be another soldier in a platoon, another actor in a company, a next-door neighbor you’ve known 20 years. In my own family, my parents’ friends have been Uncle Andy and Aunt Carolyn for years, blood tie or no blood tie.
So what makes a family? From my point of view, two things.
First, family is someone around whom it’s safe to be you. They know what you’re like and they manage to avoid blackmailing you about it — although family stories will persist, such as the time Heather’s sister threw a full Pepsi can at her (sorry, Jaimee).
Second, family is who you fight for. Sure, it may be who you fight with, too, but heaven help the outsider who tries to step in. And in a crisis, you know they’ll be there.
So I stand by my earlier statement. Duchess is family in every sense that matters.
We’ve already seen what she’s like when her defenses are down. We’ve seen the scamp that sneaks onto the bed with Heather after I leave, or the ball of fire that spins her tail like a helicopter when she’s excited, or the shameless flirt that flops down in front of me for just one more tummy rub.
Now we’ve seen the defender, too. Calm, non-threatening, but definitely a defender. And we know that she’s adopted us every bit as much as we’ve adopted her.
If we’re lucky, she may even keep us.
Scott Rochat’s e-mail address is rochat@emporiagazette.com.