I have been taking advantage of the gorgeous weather this weekend to go kayaking with Dog. At one time, when I first bought the kayak, I had envisioned Dog sitting in the cockpit or even on the bow as we paddled calmly through the waters. Then Dog grew to Clifford the Big Red Vizsla proportions, but I figured out a way to include him on kayaking trips anyway. I paddle close to shore and he runs around the path, wades along the edge, or sometimes (when the brush is too thick or the water too deep, or when he just feels like being next to me) he swims alongside the boat.

Dog loves the water and the woods that surround it. He likes to swim to cool off, but really adores frog-hunting in the tall grass and lily pads. He’s so obviously happy. His tail wags, his step is lively, and his little doggie face is animated. It’s such a joy to share something I love so much with him, and to give him such a happy morning while simultaneously getting to enjoy the fresh air and the beautiful scenery myself.

It took us a little while to get into the groove. At first, I couldn’t paddle more than a few yards offshore without Dog swimming out after me, usually directly into the path of the boat. Vizslas are “Velcro dogs”; they like to be close to their humans. When he was a puppy, he used to sit at my feet as I washed dishes, and would get up and move when I moved the three feet to the cabinet to put them away. I was a bit afraid when we started kayaking “together” that Dog would stick so closely to me that he would swim to exhaustion. Now he’s more comfortable on the shore while I’m on the water, but I still have to shout reassurance to him: “It’s okay! I’m not going anywhere! Go take a rest!”

Of all the heartbreaking coverage coming out of New Orleans and environs this week, a report of refugees’ being forced to leave their pets behind, and the Humane Society’s efforts to rescue them and locate their owners, struck a very personal chord. One can certainly see how limited resources would need to be applied toward relieving human suffering, but it seems horrible to deprive people who have lost homes, friends, and family of their pets as well. A pet can provide great comfort at a time of loss — sometimes, better than another human can. Unfortunately, even those few people who managed to rescue their pets will probably need to place them with other families during the upcoming months. A refugee (terrible-sounding word) living in borrowed or shared accommodations will not have the luxury of keeping a pet, or indeed of making most of the personal, mundane decisions that are your right when the space you occupy is your own.