“Beautiful things don’t ask for attention.” – Sean Penn, quote from The Secret Life of Walter Mitty
A friend of mine recently asked me why I never write about Josie, our collie. Do you still have her? Yes, of course, she still lives with us. Josie is a gem. I never write about Josie, because she is perfect. We never write about the perfect things in our lives, do we? The perfect things, we totally and completely, take for granted.
Josie is stunningly beautiful. Her coloring is succinctly divine. Sometimes people gasp when they see her. She’s that pretty. Recently, we were walking the three pups and two sisters passed us. (I know that they were sisters because they had the exact same face, just different hair.) The seemingly more outgoing sister exclaimed, “Oh my God! That collie is GORGEOUS!!”
The less outgoing, and probably more people-pleasing sister quickly blurted in, “They’re all beautiful. All of the puppies are beautiful!” She said this frantically, as if Ralph and Trip could understand the words, and had their feelings hurt.
Josie prances as she walks, and her tail swishes back and forth, with its perfect little white tip, so engagingly and tantalizingly perfect. Not to be weird, but her tail swishing is kind of alluring and sexy, in a way. If she weren’t spayed, she would drive male dogs mad with desire. Josie crosses her front paws when she lays down, ladylike and coy. Her white mane looks like a ravishing fur stole. Josie is Audrey Hepburn in dog form.
We got Josie when she was eight months old. She was raised by a young man with Down Syndrome. I suppose that must have had a huge influence on her beautiful, kind, gentle and calm nature. We never had to train Josie. She never messed in the house. She walks on a lead like a dream. Josie, always sweetly, lets strange children come up to kiss her on her long, elegant collie nose, without a flinch. She guards Ralphie ferociously, as he swims in the pool and she licks Trip clean of the spray from Ralphie’s water shakes. Josie’s maternal instinct runs deep in her bones and it shows. She doesn’t like squirrels and she probably barks too much at them, but that’s okay. I don’t like squirrels either. Our dog trainer said that there is no doubt that Josie is the lead dog in our house. She is queen bee in a stealth way. She only raises her voice when she (barks) at squirrels. Yet, supposedly, she rules the roost. Trip and Ralphie, obviously revere her and adore her in equal measure. (much like the rest of us)
We named Josie after a beloved, bonding family trip to Yosemite National Park. Yosemite turned into an easier to say, “Josie”. I honestly was pretty hesitant to give Josie my full heart. Her predecessor was Lacey, the first collie who stole my heart and who will own a piece of my devoted heart forever. Lacey is/was a legend in our family lore. Still, Josie has wormed her way into my vein of utter devotion. And she never tried to force her way in. Josie just wakes up every morning, ever loving, ever joyful, ever elegant, and yet ever uninhibited. And I thank God every day for her absolute divine presence. I don’t write about Josie, because I don’t want to jinx anything. Josie is almost too good to be true. Josie is perfect.