Walking Rascal up Nixon Road recently, I noticed a Little Free Library where there hadn’t been one before. Little Free Libraries are small, glassed-in bookcases, mounted on posts and offering books at no charge to anyone who happens by. People put these bookcases near their sidewalks out of niceness. The one on Nixon was clearly brand new. So far, it held a total of two books. One of them looked interesting, and I borrowed it.
A few days later, having read the book, I walked Rascal up Nixon again and returned it. The little library was now full of books. As Rascal and I turned to go, a lady came hustling down her icy driveway, holding the hand of a bundled-up toddler on either side. The three of them were so excited. “Look!” the lady said to the kids. “A person using our library!” She could not have been more pleased, nor could the little guys with her. Days have gone by since then, and that family’s happiness still makes me smile.
Which got me thinking about other glimpses of happiness. I used to volunteer at the Humane Society, walking dogs who were waiting to be adopted. The dogs were always glad for the exercise and the chance to get outside. But one in particular would have written me a thank you note, if she could. She’d been turned in by owners that found her wanting.
She and I walked a bit; then I asked her if she knew how to sit. She didn’t, so I taught her how, showering her with praise and affection when she got the idea not only of the desired behavior but that there was something I wanted her to do that, if she did it, made me demonstrably happy with her. Finally, someone had given this biddable creature a clue as to how to make humans happy! She was so delighted with the information that she stopped over and over as we walked, to sit spontaneously. She had to keep testing the hypothesis that she was a good girl after all. She was adopted in a twinkling, and her new family did not bring her back.
Our own Rascal dog knows how to make us happy. He doesn’t always act on that knowledge, but he does know how to do it. He goes through life a cheerful fellow. Some things, however, transport him into rapture. A bit of pizza crust, for instance, makes him ecstatic. He regards it as treasure and plaything. He runs off with it and tosses it in the air. Then he lollops after it and play bows to it, front elbows on the floor and tail in the air. He looks slyly at us, maintaining the bow. If we would care to pretend we want the prize for ourselves—without actually taking it away from him—that would be great. Sometimes he even lets us grab it, on the understanding that we will toss it and he can pounce on it again. This routine can continue for nearly an hour.
Also sending Rascal into rapture are the squeaky balls someone sent him for Christmas. We don’t know who that someone was, but the squeaky balls are the large-dog size. Rascal, self-image notwithstanding, is not large. It took him several attempts to figure out how even to pick up one of these balls, and a while longer to be able to run with one without tripping. He is gonzo about these balls. As far as we can tell, what he loves best about them is that they squeak very loudly indeed, for several seconds, both when squeezed and when released. He loves to “mad dog” with his new squeaky balls, running full tilt through the house with one in his mouth as it wheezes its wonderful music. Happy, happy dog!
Last Monday morning, Rascal and I crossed the footbridge at Thurston Pond, rounded the curve, and found a surprise in the path: a boy’s shoes and hat. And skate prints going from the area in front of the culvert toward the far side of the pond. Now there’s a bench on the far side where you can sit while changing into your skates, and the ice in front of the culvert tends to be weak. But that child could not wait One More Minute to hit the ice. He was out there with his buddies. They passed a puck back and forth with their hockey sticks, then skated all the way around the pond as fast as they could go, shrieking and carrying on. The exuberant human equivalent of mad dogging. Such was the joy of Michigan kids on ice.
21 January 2022