My name is Dinah. Mercy, was I cold! I was chilled to the bone. I couldn’t stop shivering. It was so dark that I thought my eyes had sealed shut again. My brothers were on both sides of me. They were so quiet. After a long time I heard voices and then I saw light. We were in a box and somebody took off the lid.

“This one is alive,” one of the voices said, “Call Mardelle. She said she would be a foster mother to infants until they were big enough for adoption.”

Someone wrapped me in a blanket to try to warm me but I still shivered and shook. Soon a lady came and took me away. She made a bed for me in the kitchen and then fixed a bottle of warm milk for me to suck at through a nipple. I was still shivering so, that I could barely get a taste. After a while the kitchen door opened and in walked a big guy.

“What’s this?” he said, and without waiting for an answer looked at me. The lady told him that someone found me in a shoebox with three dead brothers. She said that she would take care of me. I was still shivering even with the heating pad under my bed. The guy picked me up. I just fit in his hand. He sat down and held me against his warm belly. That felt so good that I soon quit shivering so much. He held me for maybe half an hour. My bed felt warmer when he put me back there. Every evening he held me against his warm belly for a while. In about a week my shivering stopped.

One day I heard the lady say that a vet she knew a couple who were looking for a replacement for their dead dog. I surely hoped they didn’t want me. I liked it here.

“You know, I kind of like this little dog,” The guy said. That was music to my cute little ears and I stayed on my best behavior.

“I’ll call the vet and tell her that we decided to keep the dog.” Said the lady.

They discussed a name for me. They both liked “Dinah”, although the lady had some reservations because it sounded like a name for a Negro kitchen maid. It suited me just fine. I couldn’t see why anyone should object.

I grew up to be a cute little foot-high, cuddly, long-bodied, short-legged dog with long, black wavy hair. I adored my people, especially the guy. I loved to greet him at the door when he came home from work. 

I thought I should have some responsibility, so when I was allowed out of the house I guarded the territory. I didn’t accept strangers kindly. I never threatened them; only let my people know that they were there. Cats and dogs were a different story. Most cats were easy. A little bluster and they were gone. One black cat confused me. I’d try to chase him off and he would stop and turn around and just look at me. I think he wanted to play. I satisfied myself with just a nose-to-nose greeting.

A big old collie lived just down the road. He walked past our house several times a day. I noticed him using our lawn as a road. I told him that this was my territory. After a few scoldings he got the message and used the opposite side of the road to pass.

It turned out to be a bad day when I was with the guy while he was trimming bushes beside the house. I saw this German shepherd in a neighbor’s yard. I said the wrong thing to him and he ran over and bit me. The guy ran him off and tended my wound, which wasn’t bad. I was more careful of what I said after that. Anyway, the shepherd moved away from the neighborhood soon after that.

Perhaps my most rewarding job was that of being the chief assistant kitchen mop. It was an easy job, and important too. All I needed do was to hang around nearby while the cook fixed the meals, and later while they ate. I wasn’t always needed, but often enough to demand my services. I loved my work when a bit of gravy was dropped.

One day the guy called me to the back yard and showed me a soft place in the lawn. He said that there was a mole under the grass. I sniffed around a while and started digging at what I thought was the right spot. In a minute I got hold of the varmint and shook the life out of him. I looked around for another, but never found one. I really had a good time rooting him out.

There are only a couple of things that I’m really afraid of. One is that noise I hear when it rains sometimes. I think they call it thunder. I don’t know where it comes from but it seems that the house is falling and I have to get under something safe. I also worry if the guy is gone a long time. When he comes back I make a pest of myself following him around. I don’t want him out of my sight.

I guess I bonded with him when I was only a baby and he held me close to his warm body when I was so cold. He will be my idol for as long as I live.