Some call Stevie the Ice Queen, but I call her The Ice Goddess. A goddess is distant but knows what is happening around. She knows she is beautiful and loved, but she has a relative restraint that sets her apart from the other beautiful dogs around the cottage. She takes up a position where she has a good view of everyone and pretends not to notice anyone.
While all the other dogs in the neighborhood go to the dock where everyone congregates, Stevie distances herself.
She refuses to lap around for treats. She quietly and subtly comes around to look for crumbs, though never very eagerly.
Stevie’s best friend, our grandson, who wishes his dog would be more loving, picks her up for cuddle training which Stevie takes with alacrity. She doesn’t do anything nor change her facial expression. She remains who she is, distant and beyond any human enticement.
Stevie is a golden doodle, a mix between a poodle and a golden retriever. Our grandson’s wife, who brought Stevie into the family, named her after the pop singer, Stevie.
Stevie thinks she rules the cottage area, including our cottage and our neighbor’s who also has a dog named Millie. Stevie has no choice but to accept Millie, and she does but occasionally still growls at her. There are other dogs around, too. Luna is a new addition to the neighborhood after our neighbor’s dog Lily died. But there is one dog Stevie won’t ever let in, Mollie. She had been roaming the property for years before Stevie came to the picture. She lives in the area the whole year, so she thinks she lords it over every other dog.
Stevie won’t stop barking at Mollie, and the sheer mention of the name makes Stevie bark like hell. She doesn’t want her around, and she gets up from her perch when Mollie comes and blocks her entry. Mollie has no time for Stevie’s barks. She keeps going and does not even bother with it except baring her teeth at Stevie when she has had enough, to which Stevie, the city dog, cowers and takes distance.
Dogs had never piqued my interest before Stevie came into the picture. Although some dogs are regular visitors, we did not have dogs and loved to stay and have some peace in our place. There are no more little children in our cottage, and most of the time, only my husband and I were in residence. We always kept treats for these dogs, and they love to visit, even sharing our company with other dogs who have learned to come regularly.
Stevie came, and she was with us. She lived in our cottage when she arrived. As a puppy, Stevie wanted to play with the other dogs, who ignored her. Now that she is of a substantial size than all of them, she wants to be the top dog that the others would never allow, so Stevie started to take her distance. She became the Ice Goddess, a role she thought of occupying in the neighborhood dog world.
Inside the cottage, Stevie has her place, the only couch in the living area. She takes up position here and pretends not to hear anything nor see anyone until someone stays on the other side of the sofa, and when this happens, Stevie leaves and looks for another place on the floor. She can’t be bothered at all.
Because Stevie has grown much more significant, her old cottage bed has become smaller for her. Also, due to the late nights, we kept at the cottage when everyone was there, Stevie found more extensive beds. She would go down to the bedrooms downstairs and find a place big enough for herself. It could be beside someone already asleep or a new bed she allocated for herself, so when people came to find their beds, they would see they had company for the night. Often, as this is not encouraged, Stevie would be sent back to her bed in her owners’ room.
Sometimes, she was allowed the luxury.
One day, after Stevie spent a weekend at the cottage with a friend, she became reclusive. She only followed me as I was familiar with her. She did not go to her bed but placed herself on the floor between my bed and the wall. I coaxed her but to no avail, so I left her there and went to sleep. When I woke up the following morning, Stevie was on my bed. When I stirred, she came over and licked my face, then stretched and left the bed. That was all the affection the Ice Goddess could ever share.
Stevie doesn’t need much affection or pretends not to. I love it as Stevie is there but not in need of so much attention. She is quiet and allows us to work. Stevie knows the play times, which are in the morning and the evening. She goes to you bringing a toy but does not bark. When Stevie sees you are not in the mood to play, this Ice goddess plays on her own, too. She knows what toys she fancies at the moment and searches for them in her basket.
Stevie is an Ice Goddess, satisfied in herself. She gets involved when she wants to and engages whenever she knows you have the time for her. Otherwise, Stevie is content to perch at a distance to see everyone who matters and observes everything that happens. In that small area of the occupied part of the cottage, she is omnipresent. She keeps her distance as if she only seeks worship and not companionship.
Her distance is annoying to some members of the family who want to engage with her. However, it is her most endearing feature for some of us who often have to work and do not care much for engagement.
So now, if you’ll excuse me, I must end this article and feed the Ice Goddess.