Greg Kincaid is the author of A Dog Named Christmas. His next book, the prequel Christmas with Tucker, comes out in November and is now available for preorder at Amazon.com, BN.com, Borders.com, and all major retailers. You can also read Greg's previous blog posts for Petfinder and visit him at www.facebook.com/authorgregkincaid.
This week Greg shares the prologue of Christmas with Tucker. In it, he explores the life of a tethered dog. Enter here for a chance to win a signed copy of Christmas with Tucker. (Official Rules)
From Christmas with Tucker: PrologueWith one paw in the wild and another scratching at the door of humanity, dogs are caught in an awkward spot. It misses the mark to describe a dog as just an animal. We recognize that our pets can be both beasts and evolved life-forms keenly attuned to human needs. Country dogs may be more appreciated for their animal nature -- hunting, herding, and guarding -- while city dogs are cherished for their humanlike ability to expertly deliver companionship and unbridled affection.
From time to time, for a lucky few of us, we come across a dog that seems to move naturally back and forth from one world to the other. Such a dog can howl at the distant coyote, hunt for his own food, refuse to back down from a charging adversary, and run for hours on end with equal glee under snow or sun. In an animal like this, we respect the sheer aliveness that radiates from his eyes. And, when the day's work is done, he'll lie down by our feet, content. For this dog, you know that there is nowhere he would rather be than with you. This dog is complete in both worlds. He models for us how to
simultaneously be good and alive -- animal and angel.
Frank Thorne owned this kind of dog. He received the 4-year-old Irish setter in exchange for repairs he made to an old tractor. The owner of the broken-down machine had inherited the tractor and the dog from his grandfather. He kept a picture in his wallet of the old man standing beside that proud setter, taken after one of their weekend hunting trips. The snapshot was good enough -- he had no room for a dog.