Seen One Seen 'Em All

Dear Dog Lady,

I have a West Highland terrier named Max. I got him two years ago when I saw an empty nest looming. Max has delightfully filled the void.

I dote on Max. He’s Mr. Personality -- high-spirited, sometimes bossy, always amusing. I take him to be groomed regularly. My groomer, Josephine, only handles Westies.

On our latest trip to Josephine’s, Max was scheduled to be shaved for summer. I left him in the morning with a bunch of other Westies. Harried with errands, I rushed back to pick up Max in the afternoon and was annoyed to find Josephine had put the wrong collar on my dog.

After untangling the collar issue, I scooped up Max and off we went. Max surprised me when he jumped right into the car. He’d never done that before. When Max got home, there was more unusual behavior -- he pooped twice in the kitchen.

Later that evening, everything was different about my dog. He didn’t dive into his food. He didn’t leap and yelp at the TV. He refused to go into his crate, which is his sanctuary. Finally, my youngest son declared, “Mom, this isn’t Max.” My stomach turned. I knew he was right. “But where’s our dog?” I wailed.

First thing in the morning, I called Josephine. She figured out that Westie Max had been mixed up with Westie Eddie. She was very apologetic, but I knew the confusion was mine. In a roomful of Westies, I couldn’t pick out my own dog

Turns out my Max had been taken to a lush estate where he spent the evening lying poolside during a “sweet sixteen” splash party. If I hadn’t reclaimed him, he was scheduled to travel to a vacation house in Maine. He was living Eddie’s good life. He barely looked up when I arrived to fetch him and deposit Eddie. However, in a flash of recognition, he showered me with kisses.
But I’m still rattled. Dog Lady, how could I not know my dog?

-Susanne, Ridgefield, Conn.

Susanne, this case of mistaken identity sounds like a canine “Prince and the Pauper.” Dog Lady has no way to explain your failure to recognize your rightful dog in a crowd of Westies except to suggest that perhaps the people you love most are the people you see least. You live with your family and, yet, how often do you really take the time to look at them, to admire them, to savor their aspects?

Also, you may have been afflicted by the “seen one Westie, seen ‘em all” syndrome. Lots of dogs resemble Max. But there’s only one Max. He leaps at the TV, dives into his food, and loves the comforts of his crate. Eddie, meanwhile, jumps up into the car, hates the crate, and poops in the house when he’s nervous. Even if they look similar, no two living creatures are the same. It is the beauty of diversity.

Take this opportunity to learn a sublime life lesson. You must certainly see Max with new eyes. You will never lose him again. And he will never lose you. Your dog may have lived like a poolside prince for 12 hours (no wonder he showered you with kisses for misplacing him), but you are his princess. He’d know your smell anywhere. His unconditionally loving instinct compels Max to pick you out of a crowd of shaved humans. Your dog would never make the same mistake.

Posted by Dog Lady at June 1, 2006 12:00 PM