There has always been a dog. In the beginning they were my siblings – my parents’ dogs. Then I became a dog mother and have remained one almost continuously for the last forty years. It started with Noah Snow, a beautiful and charismatic West Highland White Terrier who took a nice chunk out of my future husband’s nose when he first came courting. 
Then we had a brief and unhappy relationship with Barney the Beagle, who would not stop barking or chewing and was ultimately relocated to a farm which made us all happy. Next was Yukiko, a noble (except around cheeseburgers) black toy poodle born on Christmas Day twenty-eight years ago. She lived to be almost seventeen and was a wonderful friend.
After Yuki died I swore, as most dog mourners do, that there would not be another one. We were empty-nesters, there were opportunities to travel, and there were knees starting to grumble about getting up in the middle of the night. So we lived without a dog. That lasted about a year, and then I started feeling the pangs. Finding another dog was an entirely different experience by then, in 2002. The internet was starting to become a reliable information source, and I easily found a breeder in New Hampshire. She had no puppies currently but would let me know when there was a litter.
A few months later, two little poodle girls were born, each weighing two pounds. The breeder sent us pictures. We oohed and ahhed and waited the twelve-week whelping period. We drove up to get her on Mother’s Day. She slept on a towel in my lap the whole way back without moving, and by the time we got home three hours later you would have believed that I had given birth to her. She is brown, a lighter cocoa color. She has delighted us daily and is a joy.
One day early on when she did something particularly adorable, someone in the family said “Best dog ever!” I felt a stab of guilt in my chest. No!! Not best dog ever! Best brown dog ever. Not to be confused with best black dog ever (Yuki) or Noah, best white dog ever.
It makes me feel terrible to say it, but maybe she really is our best dog ever. We are smarter dog parents. We have more time. We have learned from our mistakes. The world is pet-centric now, to say the least. There are much more interesting toys manufactured now. We can afford organic kibble. There are dog parks. Pet supply superstores. Ice cream bars for dogs. She is an “only child” and we are able to give her the attention and discipline the others missed while growing up with small children.
But to this day almost thirteen years after the black one,
and forty years after the white one, the thought of being disloyal
to them is still unthinkable. So it’s still best brown dog ever.