I live here alone now. I need some clean clothes. I gather my dirty duds and go to the basement. I sort the clothes and put a load into the washing machine. Something reminds me of my little dog, Dinah.

I just arrived home from work and saw the poor little pup that Mardelle had brought home to look after until it was big enough to eat solid food. It looked so pitiful I couldn’t resist picking it up. It looked cold. It had been rescued from a shoe box abandoned in a yard on a cold night. I held it in my hand against my warm belly. It quit shivering. It would have purred had it been a kitten.

Wups, I ought to wash the sheets on my bed. I stop the machine and go after my sheets. I readjust the water level and stuff the sheets into the machine and resume the washing. I must go bring the mail in. I’m still thinking of the poor pup.

The pup looked so relaxed that I took to doing the warm-up trick every night when I got home. I kept up the routine until Mardelle quit bottle-feeding the pup. It was then that I realized that I like this little pup who thought I was her mother. We kept her and named her Dinah. When she grew up she still thought I was her mother. When I returned home after a day or two away she followed me around for all the next day, not letting me out of her sight.

I must get back down and tend my laundry. I believe the wash is done. Down the stairs I go and yes it is finished. Now I put these clothes in the drier. I load the washer with the rest of my dirty clothes and let the washer go to work.

In my neighborhood was a big collie that walked up the road and back home every day. Dinah was usually in the house or in the fenced-in back yard. Sometimes I brought her out front. If the collie happened to walk by our house Dinah let the collie know to stay on the other side of the road. Dinah had a commanding bark when defending her territory. The collie obliged. 

It just so happens that I have a batch of wine fermenting and it is about ready to be racked, that is, the wine siphoned from the fermented fruit. While I’m waiting for the clothes to dry I shall rack the wine. It smells so good when it’s fermenting; it’s worthwhile to make a gallon just for the aroma that fills the basement.

Another time Dinah was with me while I was trimming shrubs out front next to the house. She seemed to be minding her own business when she spotted the neighbor’s dog, a German shepherd of ill repute. He had killed cats, but Dinah didn’t know that. She evidently thought he was on her territory and so began her “get off my land” bark. The shepherd taking umbrage with the threat, came over and bit Dinah, whose bark changed to a “yip yip yip”. The neighbor came over and called off the dog. I think the neighbor got rid of his dog soon after that.

I’ve finished racking the wine and the clothes drier has finished its cycle. I take the load out and put the next load from the washer in to dry.

One day I was sitting out doors with Dinah when a young half grown black cat walked by. It had not gone far past us when Dinah noticed the cat and started to charge after it. The chase ended abruptly when the cat turned to face Dinah with a hiss. Both cat and dog resumed their endeavors and all was peaceful again.

One day in my back yard I discovered that an intruder had visited and might still be with me. The unmistakable underground path of a mole stretched from one side of the yard to the other. I collapsed his tunnel by walking on it. I discovered that it wasn’t just one tunnel but that it had branches, so I recruited the help of Dinah. I let her out into the yard and showed her the area where I thought the mole was. She sniffed around for a minute or two and then started digging out the tunnel. A few seconds of digging and she was shaking the stuffing out of a fat mole. She looked pleased with her effort and I was very pleased with her.

Well, my dryer has stopped; time to go back to the basement to finish my laundry and let my machines rest for a couple of weeks.