A February Gathering for 'Best Friends'?
by BARBARA DICKINSON

February already! And on my calendar that means birthdays (my own included): Honest Abe’s, George of-the-cherry tree-incident pres, my brother, and Liz Taylor’s. And birthdays translate into PARTIES, which is exactly why I am thinking along those lines.

Except that the party I am hosting would not be limited to birthdays. In fact, there is doubt that any of the invitees were even born in February. I just want an occasion when any and all invited could let their hair down, so to speak, and be themselves.

I would host this party in our backyard. The invitations would be on dog biscuits, and the postman would be Maxine the Scottie. Now you know the gist of my scheme: a doggie get-together for all the dogs in my near neighborhood. A few are as pampered as my Maxine; several lead forlorn lives completely devoid of human contact for days.

Catering to this crowd would have to be ultra-simple. I’d put out huge washtubs of fresh water and bowl after bowl of doggie treats, milk bones large and small. No sweet cakes or ice cream for this crowd for fear of all the canines getting sugar highs before time to go home.

The guest list? This will take some study, but I’d start with Maxine, of course, and depend on her help with the meeting and greeting of the crowd. Molly the black lab from across the street will be delighted to come, probably wearing a new kerchief. Henry the Airedale might seem a bit standoffish, but I think he’d love to be part of the group, assuming Blizzard the Westie decides to come. Blizzard is nonchalant about social activities, and that reminds me of Snowy, the other Westie nearby. Sweet Snowy has severe arthritis, but I am betting she won’t turn down a party. And there is Lizzie the collie on the corner. She seems rather haughty at times but underneath that fur she is probably itching (no pun intended!) for a good time.

Esme the poodle is a social butterfly. I know I can count on her. She and Rufus the Papillion will no doubt head for the cache of smaller doggie bones. And I’d make sure they left two or three for Miss Scarlet, the miniature Dachshund next door.

And that reminds me that Max the Boston Terrier must not be omitted. Neither could I overlook petite Shannon nor Winston the lumbering, loveable Old English Sheepdog. If Maxine could stifle her aggressive behavior, Penny the Wire-Haired would fit in perfectly with this group. As would Madison, Annie and Dixie, the three Shelties around the corner. Gwen, a social yellow Lab, would enjoy the festivities even if she thought the whole idea a silly one.

My guest list is beginning to look like a membership list for the United Nations, but that’s a good thing. Would an oversized Chesapeake Bay Retriever upset the balance of power? I’ll include him, just to hear him bark.

Just the other day I met an ancient black Great Dane. His size alone might intimidate most of the other guests, but he would be a regal presence.

The three guests I really and truly would like to include are a lonely Bassett Hound, a yellow Lab, and an ancient Husky. All three lead cloistered lives with little or no spoiling by an animal lover like myself. Would they like to come? I’m sure of it, for I can hear the eagerness in their barks and see the wiggles in their bodies when I walk by.

All of this is my imagination talking, of course. There will be no doggie party. The truth of the matter is Maxine does not even like other dogs; she is a people-pup. But if I could brighten up the life for the few forlorn dogs I’ve mentioned, THAT would be party enough for me!

Barbara Dickinson is a Roanoke-based novelist and freelance writer.