Gertie

The man said, “The garden belongs to my cousins, I board with them.”

I could see he minded being only a “boarder,” minded having no ground-rights.

The resentful voice continued, “Gertie has outgrown her pen and her welcome.”

Pulling a stalk of wild grass, he chewed on it furiously. This action, together with the name of the dog, made me remember the man. A year ago he had come to my kennel. I had been impressed with the hideousness of the name “Gertie” for a dog. He had looked long at Loo’s pups, suddenly had swooped to gather a small female that was almost all white into his arms.

“This one!” he exclaimed, “daintiest pup of them all!” and, putting his cheek against the puppy, he murmured, “Gertie your name is, Gertie, Gertie!” Then he tucked her inside his coat and went sailing down the street, happy.

Now Gertie was up for sale and I was buying her back. With a squeezing burst Gertie shot through her small door to fling herself upon her master. We stood beside the outgrown pen.

“I made it as big as the space they allowed would permit,” giving a scornful glance at the small quarters of the big dog. “All right when she was little. Now it is cruel to keep a creature of her size in it.”

Gertie was circling us joyously. Her glad free yelps brought the cousins rushing from their house, one lady furnished with a broom, the other with a duster. One dashed to the pansy-bed waving the duster protectively.

The other broomed, militant, at the end of the delphinium row.

“Leash her!” squealed Pansy.

“Leash her!” echoed Delphinium.

The man took a lead from his pocket and secured Gertie. The women saw me take the lead in my hand, saw me put Gertie’s price into his. He dashed the money into his pocket without a look, as if it burned his hand to hold it, turned abruptly, went into the house. The duster and the broom limped. The women smiled.

“Destructive and clumsy as a cow!” said Pansy, and scowled as Gertie passed them on her way to the gate, led by me.

“Creatures that size should be banned from city property!” agreed Delphinium with a scowl the twin of Pansy’s. Gertie, her head turned back over her shoulder, came with me submissively to the gate; here she sat down, would not budge. I pushed her out on to the pavement and shut the gate behind her–neither coaxing nor shoving would get Gertie further.

Suddenly there was a quick step on the garden walk–Gertie sprang, waiting for the gate to open, waiting to fling herself upon her adored master, pleading. I let go the lead, busied myself examining blight on the hedge. I was positive the sun had glittered on some unnatural shininess on the man’s cheek. He handed me Gertie’s lead. “I shall not come to see her. Will you give her the comfort of retaining the sound of her old name? Gertie,” he whispered, “Gertie!” and the dog waggled with joy.

Gertie! Ugh, I loathed the name-Gertie among my patriarchs!

I said, “Yes, I’ll keep the sound.”

He commanded, “Go, Gertie.”

The dog obeyed, rising to amble unenthusiastically in the direction of his pointing finger and my heels.

Honestly, I “Gertied” Gertie all the way home. Then, taking her head between my hands and bending close said, “Flirtie, Flirtie, Flirtie,” distinctly into the dog’s ear. She was intelligent and responded just as well to “Flirtie” as to “Gertie.” After all, I told myself, it was the sound I promised that Gertie should keep.

The “ie” I gradually lopped off too. Maybe her master had abbreviated to “Gert” sometimes. Flirt became one of the pillars of my kennel.

She was frightened to death of her first puppies. She dug holes in the earth and buried them as soon as they were born. I dug the pups up, restored them to life, but Flirt refused to have anything to do with them. In despair I brought old Loo into the next pen and gave the pups to her. She bathed and cuddled them all day.

More she could not do as she had no puppies of her own at that time. At evening when the pups squealed with hunger and Loo was just a little bored, I sat an hour in Flirt’s pen reasoning with her. Little by little the terrified, trembling mother allowed her puppies to creep close, closer, finally to touch her.

Her realization of motherhood came with a rush. She gave herself with Bobtail wholeheartedness to her pups, and ever after was a genuine mother.