Small Pleasures

Although I grew up with a relatively small dog (a cranky Boston Bull Terrier mix who loved only my mother), when I met Jim and fell almost as much in love with his Newfoundland-Irish Setter mix as I did with him, I became a "Big Dog Person." Consider the dogs that we've owned over the past 20 years: Merlin: 125 lbs. Sam: 120 lbs. Sophie: 90 lbs. Hana: 70 lbs.

So perhaps it's a surprise that my next dog will probably be a Papillon, a breed that generally tops out at around 10 pounds. (On the other hand, Papillons are sometimes referred to as "big dogs in little suits.")

Jill's dog, Foxy, was the first Papillon I really got to know. Unlike many small dogs (including the various toy breeds owned by my mother-in-law over the years), Foxy is calm, even around strange people and large dogs. In Brussels, Foxy and Hana treated each other with the exquisite manners of two well-bred aristocrats. Foxy is smart, but then Papillons are often on Top 10 lists of the most intelligent dog breeds. Most remarkably, though, she has what in humans is called emotional intelligence. She seems to sense what people around her need—entertainment, comfort, a warm body to sit quietly with—and quickly supplies it. (The only dog I've owned that truly had this gift was Merlin, the Bouvier des Flandres.)

Foxy and Hana at Chateau de la Hulpe, 2008

I just assumed that Foxy was unique and that Jill, who had adopted her from a rescue group, was one of those lucky people who had found the dog perfectly suited to her.

Then in August, my neighbor Joyce adopted a male Papillon from the shelter where I volunteer. He was a stray that the shelter staff christened "Bling." Joyce renamed him "Jack Sparrow" (a "manly" first name, a last name that referenced his birdlike bones) and paid his hefty veterinary bills when, three days into the adoption, he was diagnosed with canine influenza.

In less than four months, Jack and Joyce have become as perfectly in sync as Foxy and Jill.

Jack, 2009

When Joyce was out of town for 10 days over Thanksgiving, Jack came to stay with us and I got to see what he was like 24/7, just as I had when I dog-sat Foxy in Brussels. And here's the interesting thing: their temperaments are virtually identical. Foxy and Jack each stayed with me at times when I was feeling very low. Foxy was with us in Brussels when we knew we we had to leave Europe but Jim didn't yet have a firm job in the States; Jack was here last week when I was in complete despair about my job prospects AND was yearning for a home of my own, after dealing with a leaky (brand-new!) roof in our rental house and an AWOL property management company.

At the risk of sounding like one of those sentimental, gushy dog people, it's impossible to convey how much these two tiny creatures lifted my spirits during their respective visits, from waking up in morning to find Foxy's head on my pillow to laughing at Jack's habit of flipping his dry food into the air like tiddly winks. Which is why, at the risk of sounding like a whiny two-year-old (and knowing that our landlord is dead set against allowing us to have a second dog), I tell Jim at least once a day, "I want MY OWN Papillon."