I came to Tulsa a couple of weeks ago supposedly to provide some care for my mother while my brother and his wife took a much needed trek to New Zealand. My mother lives with them and is quite capable, but doesn’t drive. So I came to cook and buy. It turns out that my real task is to be mother to a Vizla. For those of you who don’t knows this breed of dog, they are quite amazing: loving, attentive, and huge. Think small brown pony who believes she is a lapdog.
The breed (and this one particularly) are true people pets. She is absolutely attached to my brother. But my brother isn’t here, and I think she must be able to discern genetics because she’s decided I’m a replacement. She is my constant companion. And I do mean constant. She curls up in the office while I work. She sits at my knee as I eat. She begs to come up into my lap while I sit watching TV. She spends the afternoon on a blanket on my lap as I listen to tapes or read. And come nightfall, she crawls under the blanket to sleep along my side.
Notice the blanket theme. Tulsa has been inundated with snow – more snow than they have ever had in their recorded history. And cold. Anything above 15 degrees seems toasty. And this poor pup has no hair. This is one of the features that make them particularly attractive to those looking for an inside pet. Only the finest layer of hair covers this dog which means that she gets COLD. Very cold. Going outside is no fun for her. She might as well be barefoot and naked. So when she comes in all she wants is to be under or on a wool blanket.
It’s been a fine experience, though. It’s been a long time since I’ve “had” a dog. My last one passed away more than ten years ago. This one and I have bonded. I think the proof came this morning when I consoled her with the reassurance that Larry would be home in just three sleeps (words that once consoled my granddaughter missing her absent mother). I’m sure that once he walks in, she’ll drop me from her list of lap partners. But I’ll remember how nice it felt.
Susan E L Lake 
Looks a lot like a Weimaraner that adopted us shortly after we built our house in Cut & Shoot back in 1981. He just appeared from out of the woods and never left. I still miss Solomon!