fred

One of my neighbor's is an Airedale named Fred. He lives with another Airedale named Penny (short for Penelope). And the Colonel, the Colonel's wife, and two cats. A typical townlet family.

While walking Franklin this morning, we passed the Colonel, who informed us that Fred has cancer and the prognosis is not good.

If Penny has the personality, it is Fred who is serenely sweet. The Airedales come over to the backyard for dog park with Franklin, joined by Murphy. Fred never had much patience for Franklin as a puppy, but has been quite friendly to him as an adult dog.

In Franklin's mind, they form a pack. I assume this is a mutual relationship, but the Airedales have a bit wider view of their pack. Franklin is much more critical of new dogs that would wander into the fold. We often stop by at the end of our morning walk and greet Fred.

Fred sings when concert music is played in the key of D, according to the Colonel. A piece of music heard on the family's outdoor speakers brings Fred to a wolf-like howling. Because I understand so little of the active mind of a dog, I am amused by his proud nose in the air singing. But there must be ancient meanings or causes in that howling, some registration of identity or message that we miss completely.

Fred is also afraid of storms, likes sitting out in the front yard looking on the world (the terrier need to just look is an interesting characteristic -- out of that looking comes some need to bark or chase or hunt). Fred is devoted to the Colonel's wife and will assert himself when he feels she is threatened or another dog gets too close to her.

He is a sweet, friendly fellow. They don't live long enough, these noble companions, who like the cat family, chose a long time ago to live with people.