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2002-11-23 - 5:12 a.m.

Emma is the reigning queen of Chateau BowWow.

She may be gentle and affectionate, but make no mistake, this stubby, roly-poly little black and white pooch rules the roost! The maharani of the estate. What Emma wants, Emma gets!

Despite her deluded notion of being a people, Emma is really an English Springer Spaniel, a runt, with ears too short and head too small for dyed-in-the-wool Springer disciples. My kinda dog, she complements Blue--my other misfit! She moved in a year after Blue, and even though she was a mere pip-squeak (seven weeks old), she quickly let it be known she was ascending to the throne! She did, and she's been majestically gracing-and guarding--her throne all these years since.

Her tail isn't a natural bob like Blue's, but the vet whacked it a tad too short, so she doesn't have a tail. She's a butt wiggler. A champion butt wiggler. The only time her butt isn't wiggling is when she's sleeping, and when she's sleeping she's snoring. There's no place in the house you can go and not hear her snore! Some nights she goes at it so seriously she wakes me up. Why, of course she sleeps on the bed, you lout! On cold winter nights she noses her way under the covers and curls up close to me; she sleeps on the other pillow--nose in my ear, snorting and snuffling--on warmer nights.

She is a great and exuberant lover of people. All people. Whereas Blue would try to prevent intruders, Emma would let them in and point them in the direction of the family heirlooms, providing they'd let her sit on their lap for a long lovin! No one's lap is immune from a visit from her. And as long as she's getting an ear or belly or back or head rub, she'll be content. Stop the massage and a freckled paw pulls your hand back into petting position. She can participate in this sport for hours.

She's an 11-year veteran as first mate on the boat. Swimming isn't an activity worthy of royalty, but she will grudgingly agree to go in if she can sit on a floating mat with me. The joy of boating is sticking her head through the side railings and letting the wind blow through her heavy, hairy ears. That and sharing an afternoon and a meal with her friends (Read that: Eating off everyone's plate!).

My mother loves her and the feeling is mutual. Rather than board in a kennel when I'm gone (a Queen does NOT stay in kennels), Emma goes to grandma's house. And what great fun they have: cuddling on the couch all day, eating wiener treats instead of the dog biscuits I provide, having scrambled eggs and chicken instead of dry kibble for supper, and learning new tricks (at least my mother thinks the dog has a new trick to show me when I return). The only trick I've seen is the trick of flopping on her back and refusing to move when I put her leash on to take her home after a stay with grandma. Things are too cushy there, and she isn't in any hurry to give it up!

She’s a loyal companion and friend, and we spend a lot of quality time together, in summer on the boat, or on the back deck grilling, in the winter curled in our recliner reading. And not a day goes by I’m not reminded who’s the queen of the house!

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