When Riley first came into our lives as a puppy he was incredibly tiny. At six weeks old that was hardly surprising for a toy poodle. He would be, even full-grown much smaller, though eventually not as dainty as our miniature Poodle-Pomeranian Button. Their personalities were much different. And Button never did fully accept Riley as a companion, though that is precisely why we brought him into our lives, thinking to enrich hers.

She is now gone, and Riley is left with us, now thirteen. There had been seven years separating them in age, and perhaps that, as much as anything is what hadn't appealed to Button. She'd enjoyed a robust friendship when she was herself a puppy with our daughter's then-companion animal, a German shepherd-husky mix. Button lived to over 19 years, our daughter's pet didn't live beyond 9.

When Riley was very small we accustomed him, just as we had with Button, to being carried about in an over-the-shoulder bag, when we went places where one wouldn't ordinarily take dogs. We felt that since they were our companions they deserved to be taken wherever we went, and as long as there were no rules against, and no one protested, they could accompany us wherever we went.

At first, because of his minuscule size, Riley fit into a small camera bag. He became so accustomed to it, that if it was placed on the floor preparatory to departure, he would take an energetic leap and ensconce himself comfortably within in, ready to go.

We now use a much larger bag, but still a camera bag. He's no longer a really tiny dog, but rather a robust but small dog. And he attracts the attention of so many people when we're out and about, in interiors, the only place where he's required to be in a bag. Everyone exclaims over him, wants to see him, pet him, talk about him.



When he was young he used to crave that attention and literally lap it up. Whenever anyone paid any attention to him, slung over my shoulder, he would be instantly alerted, and become so excited that he'd literally try to leap into their arms, further charming those who focused on him. Now, he sleeps through all the fuss, quite disinterested. Except when someone he knows begins to fuss over him and then he responds, languidly and modestly.

Yesterday, a woman who was taken with his presence, in his bag, sitting in a shopping cart at a local linen goods shop. She spoke longingly of a miniature Poodle-Pomeranian with whom she had shared fifteen years and how much she missed the little dog. It really is surprising, in a sense, how many people one comes across who speak so movingly of their sense of loss in recalling their relationship with a beloved pet come to an end.