03.30.08
Servant and Brother
Soon after the Mission came to California, Judge Adroushan went up to San Rafael to train with a new guide dog. He returned with a 17 month-old golden retriever named Kale, a wholesome name that the gastronomist found suiting. Though Kale would be a servant to the Mission, the Mission did not distinguish between blood relations and other parishioners, so it was that in his adolescence Kale gained full Missionary status, which meant that to the Mission children he was like a brother with a few incidental chores to perform. He always loved to play catch, or go exploring, and he would not complain if a child abruptly snuggled up to him during one of his many naps.
Kale was a peace-loving parishioner. He avoided cats, escaping their conniving company with his nose and tail down as if they were apt to do him harm, or worse, emit a loud noise. He did not like loud noises. Thunderstorms would compel him to run off into some dark corner of the house and release his bowels. Fireworks would do the same. He even seemed startled by the sound of his own voice. He could seldom be teased to the point of letting a single bark out, whereupon Kale would freeze and look right and left for the source of the sound, as though he were wondering if there was a dog in the vicinity.
All that said, Kale was not a jittery fellow. He would never bite, or even snap his jaws. If he needed your attention, he’d lay his snout on your knee, or if the situation was more urgent, he could ever-so-gently grasp your arm with his jaw. He was—in the absence of gunfire, fireworks, or thunder—wholly reliable, though you wouldn’t want to leave the back gate open, because he would slip out as predictably as air from an untied balloon, and proceed to wander every bit as randomly as molecules once liberated. He would inevitably be discovered surrounded by admirers. He was a charmer.
© 2008 Dan J. Jensen
