By LEE SCOTT
There are people in my neighborhood who know me only as “Brandy’s mother.”
That is what happens when you own a dog. People are always asking the dog’s name. How old is she? What kind of dog? They never ask my name.
I really do not mind because there are many benefits of being “Brandy’s mother.”
Besides the unconditional love she provides, she also requires me to take her for walks, even when the thought of a walk is excruciating.
Occasionally, I can feel her eyes boring into me as she patiently waits until I wake up and smile. Then her tail begins to wag, and my day begins, regardless of the weather.
Of course, there are those miserable rainy days when I would prefer to stay in bed.
But on those beautiful mornings when the sun is rising and there is a light breeze, I am glad she has been able to get me moving. Her wagging tail speaks volumes as she anxiously awaits me. I also think that in her mind, she is taking me for a walk.
There are other dog people in my neighborhood who are out walking their dogs or “getting” walked like me. I do know the names of some of the dog owners; neighbors who have Finch, Tosca, and Tess.
But many times, I only know the dog’s name.
It does not seem to bother people with dogs. As it turns out we see this practice of asking the dog’s name all the time.
When my husband and I walk Brandy at the Beaufort Waterfront Park, people will come up and ask her name and if they can pet her. They never ask our names. We are just on the other end of Brandy’s leash.
“Hello, my name is Lee!” I say in a needy tone, as they ignore me and get down on their knees to pet her.
But we are just as guilty of the practice, so I cannot complain.
Recently, I stopped a woman and asked the dog’s name.
“Wilson,” she replied.
That is when I realized I had not asked her name. Typical dog owner. But she responded “I’m Holly, but Wilson is not really our dog. We are fostering him while our son is away at school.”
Children do that to parents all the time. It made me wonder how she will feel when she stops being Wilson’s adopted Mother.
I know, someday, I will not be Brandy’s mother anymore. Her picture will hang beside the pictures of our other dogs.
Regardless, there will always be another dog in my future, ready to take me for a walk.
But for now, I like being known as Brandy’s mother.
