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When I was about five years old, my father brought home the cutest little bundle of blond fur. It was a tiny male puppy – a collie mix. Right from the beginning, we could see that this little guy was very bright and self-possessed. The usual dog names were discussed and rejected, and then my brother-in-law suggested we call him Joker, and that name turned out to be perfect throughout his long life of fifteen years, although it was sometimes Old Joke or just Joke.
Joker made it clear from the beginning that he had a personality and mind of his own, along with a healthy ego. He was a handsome fellow and used to admire himself in the puddles. He cut his teeth on our pants legs, so we all had shredded pant leg bottoms until Joker got his permanent teeth.
"Old Joke"
by Clare Huisman
©
2008 Clare Huisman
Joker was a natural herder. Unfortunately, this extended to trying to herd cars. One day, a driver swerved over and deliberately hit Joker and broke his leg. It wasn’t too hard to figure out who that person was, because for years Joker would bark and growl at this individual and his car. The leg was never set properly, and Joker had three good legs and a gimpy fourth leg for the rest of his life. However, this did not slow him down one bit. He still managed to be the fastest runner, best fighter, and biggest Romeo in town.
Now Joker loved all of us kids, but when my youngest brother was born, Joker found the true love of his life. From the time my little brother could crawl around and tug on Joke’s ears and tail, there was never any doubt that these two had a very special bond When you are the baby, older brothers and sisters can be cruel sometimes. But in Joker, my little brother had a friend who never judged him, always had time for him, and obviously thought that he was the world’s most perfect being. To that little boy, Joker wasn’t just a pet; he was a best friend.
Everywhere my little brother went, there went Joker. When Mom wanted my little brother, all she had to do was call Joker’s name, and the two of them would soon show up. That little blond-haired boy with his blond gimpy dog was known by everyone in town. Mom also never had to worry about anyone or anything being a threat to my little brother because there was never any doubt that Joker would lay down his life to protect that little boy. She also knew that my little brother would never be picked up by a stranger because Joker hated cars and wouldn’t get into one, and my little brother would never have left his best buddy behind.
When my little brother started school, his teacher sent Mom a note saying that Joker would have to be tied up because he kept showing up at school, and my little brother wouldn’t socialize with the other children, being content with his dog’s company. Mom tried to tie Joker up, but he would neither eat nor drink while he was tied. He was the original free spirit and would not accept being physically restrained. She finally just kept him in the house at recess and noon hour time. When it was time for school dismissal, she would let Joker out. He and his boy would meet about half-way home from school, and Joker always got the biggest hug that little guy could give him.
My little brother experienced his share of mischief and spankings. I recall watching him, at about age five, storming out the front door in tears after a spanking. Joker was lying on the porch waiting for him. My brother, still very upset over his spanking, gave Joker a kick. The dog yipped in surprise, but he didn’t run away. Shocked at what he had just done, my brother put his little arms around that old dog’s neck and sobbed over and over, with tears streaking down his dusty little face, “Oh Joke, I didn’t mean it!” There they huddled, with my brother hugging his best buddy, crying and apologizing; and Joker, cuddling back, whining and licking the tears from his boy’s face. They felt each other’s pain – an unforgettable moment.
They have both moved on from this life. I feel fortunate to have observed and been part of their time together. I will always miss them.
