Dog of a Lifetime
Mr. Maple has always been a Collie with his own agenda, a “lone wolf” from birth. He was the first puppy out of his mother’s womb and immediately made his way to the far side of the whelping box, in order to put as much distance between himself and his littermates as possible. He enjoys his regal solitude.
Since his arrival on Paradise Hill in April 2014, he has loved nothing more than taking off on one of his “larks” through the woods, sometimes not coming back home for hours. Over the years, I have become familiar with his favorite haunts—the ravine, the creek, and the infernal patch of burdocks. But nothing gives him greater joy than plunging into the Stinky Pond and refreshing that distinctive “fragrance” of his, which only he seems to appreciate. And if he isn’t off on one of his larks, he is sitting on the back deck of the house, surveying his woodland demesne, ever alert to greet any visitor that might happen by—such as the Bear, the Stinky Fox, or yourself. No matter who enters into his orbit, he will bark his hearty welcome. He barks and he barks and he barks.
A full week ago, on March 19th, he took off on his greatest lark ever—heading north, by all accounts—to a certain pet resort (or should I say, pet retort?) known as Colonel Cinders’ Spa, said to be the final word in solemn, Collie luxury. Our Mr. Maple had been missing in action for a full seven days. But—thank goodness—he returned today to Paradise Hill, where he now promises to stay put for a good, long, and well-deserved rest. And though his larking days may be over, his barking days are not. Waking or dreaming, there is no end to those rackety-sweet times: Evermore, he barks and he barks and he barks.
In memoriam: Maple-Go-Lightly of Paradise Hill
(February 18, 2014 – March 19, 2025)
