Literally Letty is a collection of personal and original stories focused on touching each reader's life with stories from the heart. If you are looking for life stories and not the daily news or reality tv drama, then these are the stories and pictures you will enjoy.
Our energetic protector of eleven years, insists that one of
us walk with her daily, and that's a healthy trait for us. In the beginning, as
a rescue dog, she didn't know how to act like a dog.
Four days abandoned in an outside
cage, when her owner died suddenly of a heart attack, she’d been denied food
and shelter as spring storms roared through. A week later, safe in our home, she
whimpered and crawled under tables and beds hiding from us, afraid to walk room
to room. She slept beside the bed, and ate her meals beside the bed, fearful of
other spaces. She'd only go outside "to go hurry" if one of us went
A friend sent me a book called The
Loved Dog which helped me to deal with her fears of the world. Then one summer afternoon, three months after I rescued her, we were walking around
the backyard. While I
admired our flowers, Lucy sniffed for varmints and
critters. Suddenly, she barked at the
neighbor, as if to say, "Don't come close to my cow." My
neighbor and I were startled. Lucy had never barked before. She scared herself and looked around to see
what had happened, then she barked again. Our little dog was growing into a
true watch dog, and companion. She would make sure that no one came near me
until she knew the person was friendly.
In the first few months, she would not let Jack get close to me. There were
some unpleasant moments at our house when Lucy decided that I needed protection
day and night from Jack. At last, through
playing tug of war
scraps, and daily play treats, Jack and Lucy formed a bond.
Then she began immediately training us, herding us from room to room.
She taught us how to stay young by playing
childhood games with her. Our favorite game is hide-n-go-seek with tennis balls
and doggie toys, but often while walking in the fields Jack will wonder off and
hide. Much to Lucy’s chagrin she then smells the air until she picks up his scent,
then runs like a fox across the grasses to find him. Sometime she scolds him with a bark for not
staying up with us. We laugh. Her return
run to me is not the same as her search mode run. Once she finds her man she
runs back to me with a swirling tail like a helicopter that nearly lifts her off the
ground. We laugh again.
Lost and found in the field.
Her morning belly rub ritual.
Eleven years later, Lucy, is still my constant companion, by
my side, near my feet, across the path, under the table on my feet, nosing her
way into the bathroom, and nudging me when I cough at night or when she simply
wants her head scratched. When I scream in a nightmare, Lucy lets out a whining
howl to awaken me. If that doesn’t work she leaps onto the bed on top of Jack
to let him know that I need help!
Immediate and unconditional love is all she knows. She doesn’t
understand when I say, “Tomorrow or maybe, or later. Her heads cocks to one
side and then the other until I reconsider and say, "Ok, we will play now."
She truly is a gift to us. Each day she reminds us how to live