By Amy Palumbo-LeClaire

The Golden Retriever is a breed known to have lots of friends. Luke Valentino is no exception. Intelligent and social, he craved interaction at an early age. He’d sit in the front yard, a live teddy bear, and watch the big dogs stroll by. “You look like my biological mother. Sort of. Want to come over?” 

I imagined how difficult it must have been for Luke to leave his litter mates—to then sense that something was missing. His new bed smelled of lavender. His new home had comfy rugs. His new parents had gentle voices and soft hands. Still, something wasn’t right. He nuzzled his blankets and whimpered.  “Where are my sisters and brothers? I’m lonely!” 

My heart broke. 

Our plan was to house two pups following Lincoln’s passing. I even wrote a story titled “Two in the Queue.” I wanted to double the dog fun. Then something changed. I blame a 2 am. incident that happened in the backyard during an icy March night. Luke zoomed away from me to steal another piece of mulch. I lunged for him and ended up pulling a groin muscle. I hobbled back inside with a sore crotch and naughty pup.  Something inside me stirred. I was too old for two pups. On the bright side, memories of Luke’s siblings began to fade. Crocuses bloomed. Luke lifted his leg to pee over them and mark his territory. “Luke was here.” The grass truly was greener at his new home—especially where he watered it! 

My pup may not have a sibling (yet) but he certainly has a lot of friends, credit to watching and studying them as a puppy. As though humbled by their greatness, he’d lie down and wait for them to respond to his request to meet and greet. “Are you my biological mother? I was separated from my parents at birth.” 

Weeks turned into months and Luke’s skin wizened to the unkind laws of the jungle.

We learned that not all dogs are friendly, and many are reactive. A silver lab once lunged for his soft, puppy ear during a dog-walk and nose-to-nose greeting. “YOWZA! THAT HURT!” The owner, apologetic, explained that his dog, a rescue, had not been socialized. I took him to the dog park when he was about six months old. The decision led to more trauma. “Come on, triangle-eared dude! Let’s play!” Innocent and immature, Luke barked in the face of a German Shepherd that was not into playful puppies. A wrestling match ensued. Things went from bad to worse until I found myself prying the shepherd’s mouth from my pup’s neck. Thank goodness for Luke’s fluff!  I held my emotions together to break up the dog fight, then teared up in the car. “I’m sorry, Luke. That was not okay.” He popped his head from the sunroof of his dog crate and smiled. “I’m over it, Momma.” I was soon to learn that Luke was not over it. In fact, the attack would leave a scar on his heart and mind.

Two years flew by. A dog walker casually strolled by our front yard with her muzzled German Shepherd, who happened to be new to the neighborhood. Luke darted across the yard after her. “You’re not going to hurt me or my family, and you will not set foot on my grass!” He barked and snarled and showed his teeth. In his mind’s eye, this was the dog who had nearly killed him. I intervened immediately. “I’m so sorry.” My heart went out to the dog walker. I knew exactly how she felt. We do our best to domesticate our dogs, but sometimes their primal colors emerge. A dog is still a dog. Luke instinctively knew to protect his family from a dog he perceived to be a threat. Thereafter, I hired a dog trainer and learned how to best deal with Luke’s trauma. Now I’m more selective about who Luke will socialize with. I offer him scheduled playdates with dogs whose parents are my friends. 

His besties, listed alphabetically, have captured both our hearts. 

Haven

Haven is a feisty, little English Cream with a surprisingly big appetite for wrestling big dogs. The first time she met Luke, she submitted with grace, slowing crouching to the ground to lie down.  “I’m okay. I won’t hurt you. I just want to play rough.” She yielded to a downward dog pose that Luke couldn’t resist. “Bring it on.” The two dogs chased and nipped, galloped and whipped, flopped and flipped like a pair of dogs from a Dr. Seuss book. Haven’s speed and agility complements Luke’s defensive bear hugs. If given the opportunity, he’ll hold her in place until she springs from his clutch for another round of Chase. Luke and Haven are a pair of opposites, attracted by a love for play 

Koda

Koda is an adorable husky, most likely to be found buried at the bottom of a leaf pile. Nothing quite compares to the sight of a soft-faced husky who has just plunged headfirst into a pile of leaves to track the delicious scent of a varmint. Koda is a member of Luke’s morning Dog Walking group (there are six dogs in all) and one of his more peppery friends. “You are one crazy girl, but I love ya to pieces.” The two dogs often share quick play sessions on my front lawn.  

Nessie

Nessie is a sassy and strong Viszla (a mix-breed) rescued from South Carolina. The two friends met on the street and forged an interesting relationship. “Excuse me. I’m not sure about you.” Anxious and sensitive, Nessie set boundaries early on with a dog who appeared harmless, but one never knows. Better safe than sorry is Nessie’s mantra. Luke behaved charmingly, sitting like a gentleman and allowing her to decide how much attention she’d like from him. He’s long since ended up winning her heart over. The two share robust playdates in her spacious fenced-in yard. “Luke’s over! Luke’s over! Luke’s over!” I pull up in her driveway and Nessie’s hollers flood our car. Luke fidgets and whines from his dog crate in the trunk. “Hurry up, Momma! Nessie needs me!” I park, activate the lift of the hatch, and circle around to unzip him. He soars like Superman from the back of my car, dashes to the edge of Nessie’s wrought iron gate, and stares into her hazel eyes. “Let me in, Nessie.”

Obi

Obi is Luke’s favorite pillow thrashing, body slamming, stuffed animal mangling Labrador buddy. Luke and Obi have shared an affectionately aggressive relationship for years. Obi loves to tease Luke with beloved toys and play Keep Away. “Give me back my lamb, Obi!!!” Luke barks like a seal in the poor dog’s face. Obi, laid-back and resilient, shakes it off. “I’m not finished with it yet, Luke.” Did I mention Obi also has a lake house, and a boat?

Rocco

Luke’s friendship with Rocco emerged slowly yet assuredly. Rocco was the new pup who took the place of Luke’s sweet, Golden friend Bruno, who passed away last December at the age of ten. Upon entering a home that no longer included his buddy, Luke was confused. He ignored the new pup completely and searched the floors.  “Where’ s Bruno? I smell him, but I can’t find him. Where’d he go?” He sniffed Bruno’s bed while we all held back tears. Mesmerized by the leonine Golden, Rocco stared longingly at Luke and waited to be noticed. “Hi. My name is Rocco. I sometimes get into mischief, but I’m a good boy, too.” Luke has since adjusted to his favorite Golden Family home and warmed up to a patient pup named Rocco. 

Rosie 

These two friends, Golden and Doodle, have been partners in crime for a few years now. “Hi Rosie. Can you come over to play?” Luke charms her from the front step while she strolls on past, her neck craned back to him while she stammers forward on the leash. “I. Have. To. Go. For. A Walk. Now. Luke.” She fights her Dog Momma until a verdict is made. “Hah!” She’s unleashed. Rosie bolts like lightning towards Luke. He concentrates on his friend with stoic obsession, and remains aloof to her sudden presence, as though he’s not interested. Then the two rumble and reveal their personalities. Rosie, svelte and agile, gallops gracefully around the yard. Luke, a defensive back, body slams her to imitate a wrestling match. Rosie and Luke are a match made on Wildflower Drive.

Write to Amy at [email protected]

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