Gretel's Care Package

My mother refused to raise children in a home without a dog present. We had a succession of half a dozen canine companions throughout my growing-up years, beginning with Ishmael, ending with Cinder, and with Angel, Midnight, Gretel and Gremlin in between. Each of these guys had their own story worthy of several blog entries. There was also apparently a dachshund named Suzie who was before my time, so, in her case, I have no comment.

This memory focuses on Gretel, or, more specifically, on a Gretel by-product. Gretel, may she rest in peace, was a Bernese mountain dog and one of the most beautiful creatures ever to walk the face of the earth. She was also probably the sweetest and gentlest dog we ever had, and her time with us was altogether too short. She’s been gone for the better part of two decades, but I still miss her.

Back in the late 80s, I was living in Scotland for an extended period of time, and my mother would dutifully write real letters in that pre-Internet era and occasionally send a care package or two. On one occasion, I received a knitted scarf made by my mother’s own hand. Scarves were helpful in the cold Scottish weather, and I was grateful for the gift – until I smelled it.

The scarf was knitted out of yarn spun from Gretel’s sheddings.

Now don’t get me wrong. I loved that dog more than just about anything. But a scarf made out of dog hair still smells like – well, like dog hair. And in Scotland, where it rains every single day of the year and your scarf is bound to get soaking wet, the idea of having such an item that close to my nose was too horrible to contemplate.

There’s a reason that no perfume has been released under the label “Moist Dog Hair.”

I have no idea what happened to that scarf, and my relationship with both my mother and Gretel survived the exchange without incident. But the moral of the story is that if you want to send a care package to your son living overseas, I recommend cookies or breakfast cereal.