Letters from the Judges
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Tara Flaherty Guy
It was such a pleasure to read the different prose and poetry selections included in this pet-writing contest, and to consider all of the myriad ways that we human beings interact with the animals in our lives. Though the pieces vary greatly in content, style, and point of view, one thing remains clear throughout – how much richer our lives are, thanks to the mutual love and devotion we share with our beloved pets.
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Robin Michel
For most of my life, I have been afraid of dogs. When my children were growing up, I said no to a dog, but allowed goldfish and guppies, a hamster and two guinea pigs, a rat I grew especially fond of for some explicable reason, a rabbit who chewed off buttons on the TVs remote control, and an assortment of reptiles. I also said no to snakes, but found out my then-18-year-old son had a large snake living in a box under his bed for three months. Our longest living animal companion was our cat Pudder, who lived to be seventeen years old. She suffered from leukemia in the last months of her life, and I made her a special bed beside my own. When her suffering became too great, my son and youngest daughter came with me to the vet’s where we wept together while letting her go. Three years later, after my mother died, all three of my children stood beside their grandmother’s hospital bed with me as we said goodbye. I offered a silent prayer of gratitude to our beloved Pudder, who helped prepare us for this new letting go.
But the dog fear persisted. I would cross the street to avoid coming into close proximity of any dog, and offended friends and strangers when I kept my distance. I often thought some of these dog lovers would decide that there was something fundamentally wrong with me. “You seem like a dog person,” people would say, eyeing me with new suspicion.
I am a grandmother now. All of our children’s families have dogs, including my youngest daughter. “Meet your new grandpuppy,” my daughter said when first making introductions. She expressed surprise that I held Penny in my arms, and that her skittish fur-baby let me. Thank you Big Sticky, Charlotte, Kuma, and Penny. I have learned to let go of my fear, and no longer cross the street when a dog approaches. I smile, and sometimes, we even talk.
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