Front Porch: Looking forward to reunion with grand-doggie

My grand-doggie Ellie, also known as Ellie Belly, lives in Seattle. She is an Old English sheepdog who is the queen of her kingdom – that kingdom being the home she shares with my son Sam and his boyfriend, Ryan.

Her majesty is a smile magnet, and any number of people have fallen in love with her because she is just such a shaggy bundle of happiness. I know we all feel special affection for the dogs in our lives, but there’s something about her that draws people to say “aww” and come from across the street or across the park to make her acquaintance.

I find myself proudly showing her photo just like others show photos of their grandchildren, like her most recent one, showing her sporting a new summer haircut and, on the day of the recent royal wedding, wearing her own “fascinator.” Even though I’ve had nothing to do with her training or upbringing, I feel pride in her wonderfulness.

I am happy to report that a trip to Spokane is planned for this summer, when she will be driven over by her humans, and I have friends who are requesting time to visit with her. She should have her own business card and publicist.

I have noticed that Old English sheepdog appeal is pretty universal. The dogs Merlin and Ambrosius in the film “Labyrinth” and Sprocket in the TV show “Fraggle Rock” were Old English Sheepdogs – as was Farley, the family pet in the long-running newspaper cartoon strip “For Better or Worse.” And when the fictional Farley died rescuing a child from drowning in one of the story arcs, there was a wail heard (and written about) across the nation, and most certainly in our house.

I have had dogs most of my life. Mickey, a dog of undetermined heritage, was the pooch of my youth. As an only child, I used to try blaming him when there would be some mess I created. Once, when I had lifted an ice cream bar from the freezer against my mother’s wishes and got nailed for it, I indignantly suggested that rather than blaming me, why couldn’t it have been Mickey who took it? My mother laughed so hard at that mental picture, she forgot about my punishment.

Bonnie, a Dalmatian, was the dog of the early years of my marriage. With boundless energy, she would fetch sticks or pine cones we’d toss for her for hours. We tired long before she did. And when babies came into the family, she’d sleep under their cribs and come flying out to wherever I was whenever one of our sons would stir. She’d sit and stare at me, as if to say, “get in there and take care of your kid.”

When Bonnie died and we buried her in my father-in-law’s garden, our youngest son, who wanted to be present, started howling. He sounded very much like a pup in mourning, and it wasn’t long before Bruce and I were sobbing, too.

Seltice, a Vizsla-Lab mix, was the most recent canine member of the family. With her heritage she should have been a good hunter and swimmer, but water terrified her (they make movies about what bath time looked like at our house), and the sound of a car backfiring, never mind fireworks, caused her to tremble and seek higher ground, often climbing up Bruce’s reclining body to try to sit on his head. Neurotic, but cherished by us just the same.

When Seltice was 15 and in decline, and we had to make a trip to the coast for a few days, we had someone come to the house a couple of times a day to check in on her. It became apparent she was dying, and we came home. She was not conscious and was breathing heavily when we arrived, so we just sat by her and stroked her fur. Her breath evened out right away and got shallower. And she let go. She waited for us to come home, I’m certain.

We are without doggie right now, and it’s quite surprising to me how connected I feel to Ellie, even 300 miles away. There’s something about the human-canine bond that can thrive even across the distance, and how good I can feel just seeing her picture or hearing about some deed or misdeed she’s been party to.

A lot has been written about this bond, but you don’t need books to know it or feel it. You just need a lovely wet dog snout and wagging tail coming at you to make your heart happy. We’ll be in the Seattle area this weekend for a wedding, and I’m eagerly anticipating my Ellie-fix.

I’m smiling already.

Voices correspondent Stefanie Pettit can be reached by e-mail at upwindsailor@comcast.net.