Karma

It's raining. Can't drive the Saab, because the wipers don't work. Every time I take Elka in to get something fixed, something else breaks. It's like...which do you want? Windshield wipers or brakes?
So it's Margaret the Mercury today.
I took my yellow lab, Karma, on a long walk today. She's the only lab I know who's afraid of the rain. One of my new years resolutions is to be more sensitive to my dogs. They have all the basics: food, water, shelter, regular veterinary care, but sometimes I think their lives aren't very enjoyable.
Karma's a pound puppy. I did something crappy about 8 years ago, and getting a dog from doggie death row was my secret agreement with the universe to settle the debt. But that's a story for another time. I have had an uneasy relationship with animals in the past. Jay taught her how to swim this summer, stripping off his clothes and carrying her naked into the pond, taking her out just a little bit farther each time and letting her swim back. She still gets nervous, swims out to the raft, then panics and tries to climb on our heads. Nothing like having a wet 80 pound wet dog try to climb on your head, I always say. But she's still afraid of the rain. She has a sixth sense for it.
We started off walking bravely in the winter sun. It wasn't too cold out. I decided to head towards my folks house, a little longer walk than usual, but Karma started acting up, so I turned around and made our usual 1/2 hour circle. Oh, desire is everywhere isn't it? The house I most love in this town is for sale, and I know I can't afford it. You can't even take a walk without it biting you. So anyways, we get to our street and just as we turn onto it, it starts raining. I swear there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We just made it inside before the rain set in for real. "How do you know?" I ask her, for the hundredth time.
She's so smart.
She isn't the dog I wanted. I went to the pound and asked them to show me dogs who were about to be put down.
"Well, " said the college girl working there, "we can't really do that...but I'll show you some dogs that are probably not going to be adopted by anyone soon."
"And you put those down?"
"There hasn't been much interest in these dogs."
I had promised to myself and to God, I guess, that I would take the first dog shown me. The girl showed me this wretched yellow dog, emaciated and ill looking, with skin that had turned black from bad nutrition and neglect. Too big, I thought. There was a much cuter smaller black one right next to her. Did it really matter, after all, which dog I took? I was saving a dog, right? I was still doing good. "What about this one?" I asked her, pointing to the other dog.
And while I asked the question, the ugly yellow dog stuck her nose through the cage and licked my hand. 'Remember your promise,' the lick seemed to say.
So I took the ugly yellow dog instead. The ugliest dog in the place that day.
And that's Karma. Who is now fat and beautiful and afraid of the rain. She's almost a perfect specimen of a labarador retriever--except for the fear of water, and she won't retrieve. She just stares at you like you're an idiot.
She's really smart, though.
One time, I got lost in the woods. I had parked the car and taken Karma in for a ramble. I got completely turned around and I had no idea where I was or how to get back to the car. We wandered around for about an hour trying to find our way. I was going in circles. Finally, in desperation, I took Karma's leash off.
"You want to go home? Let's go back to the car!"
She turned around and took off. I followed her. Every few minutes she would sit down, wait for me to catch up, then take off again.
She led me straight to the car. A little more wet and muddy a route than I would have preferred--but then I wasn't the one doing the choosing.
She was pretty skittish for a long time. For some reason, the only strangers she would let touch her were asian women. Go figure. She's better now, but she still hides under the stairs for days at a time sometimes. Know the feeling.
That's my 1/2 hour