“Archie.... No!” I grunted like half heartedly, when for the millionth time that day, Archie, a Golden retriever, moved to examine a pile of excrement...
Archie, was a substitute, I mean it wasn’t as though he was a temporary substitute, he belonged to me, as much as a dog ever belonged to anyone... But he was still a substitute.

The sun was still cold, and warmed me little, its rays fell in patches through the branches of the trees, which still were mainly devoid of leaves. I was in the park, the same wooden park I always went to, twice a day, like clockwork pretty much. I had been going there for many years before, I had gotten Archie, and planned to continue going there as long as my health allowed me too. This could be only a decade, or six decades, such things, as most things, are unpredictable, and out of control. Control, yes that word, around which my fragile world revolved... Control, that elusive something, which is needed, but which is not entirely present in any one thing.

Control, which I lacked, over so many things, including myself, and to a lesser extent, over Archie...

Control, was what I thought I had, over what breed, I chose. I mean sure, many say that breed is not important, that a Dog should be kind, and gentle, before it is a particular breed. This is of course true, but it does nothing to prevent any particular

breed from forming completely devoted followers. This was true, from the very first days of the standardized breeds, and no doubt it would continue to be true for many centuries hence... When I was young, or younger than I am now, I did not understand the importance of breeds, when I did think of dogs, or any animal, I thought of breeds last, and of the kind and gentle aspect first. However as with all childhood beliefs, experience, and the formation of my own opinion on all things, quickly dispelled such thoughts. By the time, I had started to seriously consider a Dog of my own, I was decidedly set on my breed, and nothing could, or would ever shake me away from that conviction.

So, what was this problem that cause my disappointment, you may ask, well it was two words, My Neighbor...  My neighbor is someone who is not really evil, but only an opportunist, with a deeply felt desire to have all around him fit perfectly with his view of the world. This had led him to several misadventures, none of which, might I say, ever brought him much financial gain, sometimes even the opposite, as far as I knew. Luckily though I quickly understood him, and after the first sum I loaned him, 500 dollars which was never returned, I closed my wallet to him. As for everything else, our knowledge of each other was limited mainly to a muttered greeting once in a while, when it happened that both of us were out in our yards. So, as you have probably guessed already, the problem, was in my neighbor's insatiable wish for the world around him to fit what he imagined in his mind.

enroll it in any obedience and behavior class that would be needed. That I would be a responsible owner to it. I even sent, to his phone, a great many videos from the internet of GSDs, just being the finest and gentlest dogs you could imagine. There is no short supply of these videos, and one could watch them endlessly if one wishes. Yet my Neighbor remained adamant, and though he had no legal right to, he ordered me to get a Golden Retriever instead.

Now as I have just said, he had no legal right to tell me I could not have a German Shephard, or to assume my dog would be aggressive, and that I would be an irresponsible owner. He had no legal right to do any of these things, but somehow...I got a Golden instead...Now, initially the defeat seemed mediated, at least partially, because I had a dog, though it wasn’t THE DOG I had wanted, it was something. I trained the Golden, with a dutifulness that was devoid of any real attachment that I felt towards the Dog.  I mean there was no Love, between us at least none from me, as for the Dog, I could never tell for sure.  I trained the Golden, which I named Archie, to do several dozen tricks, and some of them were indeed at least a little impressive. For instance, he could take a laundry hamper, from up stars, downstairs, and leave it right beside the washing machine. He did this without even receiving a command, when the hamper was full, I  covered it with a lid, a signal, that meant it needed to be pulled down stairs.

He understood this signal, and almost without fail, each time I put the lid on the hamper, I found it minutes later, downstairs by the washing machine. There were other things, I taught the Golden to do, like retrieving the newspaper, but none seemed to bring more than a momentary satisfaction. I would pet the Dog excitedly on its head, but then in a second, my enthusiasm would fade, and my hands would drop to my sides.

 I even enrolled him in an obedience competition, one in which he won first place. Very likely I had one of the best trained, and best exercised Goldens in the area. The Judge of the Competition even went so far as to complement my Dog’s, ‘exquisite muscle toning’. This though still did not dispel my sorrow...

Most recently Archie had successfully jumped a 7 foot obstacle, and earned an appearance in a Dog magazine, I

bought the magazine, and framed it. Yet I hardly ever looked at it, and when I did, my mind edited out Archie’s image, and instead replaced it with one of a GSD.
Lately all that I had still not been successful at controlling in Archie, was his unwavering desire to examine every piece of excrement wether it was from his own species or from any other type of bird or animal.

Having almost finished our walk, or 6 miles, the typical minimal we completed each day, I sat down on a bench, with Archie seated beside me. 

I sighed, and looked mournfully at the dog, which stared back with an excitement that caused no happiness within me. I turned, and looked in the other direction, there, someone was walking their GSD. I gasped, as my heart and sole were filled with an impossible longing, the GSD seemed to me the most graceful creature ever created...
It walked past on silent and light feet, it’s larger size, not affecting the grace of it’s movements in the slightest. It coat was as the finest GSD’s a deep orange-red, with a distinct saddle over it’s back, and tall ears, perfect triangles. It’s gaze was fixed on it’s owner, from whom it never ventured more then a few feet, even though it wasn’t on a leash... I thought of my Archie, who no doubt would run head long away from me the moment I released him from the leash and began to feel like weeping. The GSD paused for a moment, and turned its  great strong head, towards me, and looked at me with its large expressively melancholic eyes.

 It seemed for a moment, that it understood my plight, that it understood just how it was to want something so, so much... But then its head turned, back to its owner, and the momentary look was over...

Archie jumped down from the bench, and gave me the ‘play bow’ the unmistakable signal he wanted me to throw him a stick. A brief search in the brambles found me a stick, which I threw, absentmindedly, into the lake, which was located at the center of the park. Archie swam out, at an impressive speed, and soon had returned to me, the stick in his jaws. I repeated this many more times, since it was part of my training, and a result of the vague thought that I should look for a swimming competition for Archie to win first place in. When we finished, I let Archie shake himself dry, before reattaching the leash, and so we returned back to my car.

The GSD, which I had just seen, remained at the top of my mind, second only to the actually driving off the car, as I loaded Archie into the back seat, and sat myself on the driver’s seat. 

I drove out from the parking lot and started down the road towards home. As the GSD swirled in my thoughts, quickly becoming a creature of mythical bravery, I turned on the radio, and tuned it to a station which always played cheery music. On that particular day they were playing

some 'rock and roll’ music from about 60, or 70 years ago. Archie stuck his head through the open car window, as dogs so often like to do, and seemed to taste all in the air, with his sense of smell. I looked back at him for a moment in my rear view, and a faint smile began, but just as quickly it vanished, when I realized that Archie was only a substitute...

Suddenly, Archie was barking energetically at something, only he knew what it was. I was so startled that I missed our usual turn and ended up having to look for another route. When Archie had settled down, I had already started on the other route, which promised to add quite bit of distance to our drive. I glared at Archie, through the rear view mirror, while the dog grinned back at me, completely oblivious...

I stoped the car, so to speak, in its tracks. Archie, startled, barked a few times, before quieting down, and looking, questioningly at me, or at least at the rearview, through which I saw him. I saw him only for a moment though, my attention was set on the

For the first time, in a long time, I had this hope, and for the first time, in a long time, I acted upon it. I reversed my car, and steered onto the gravel drive which lead up to the farmhouse. Under the trees, which lined both sides of the road, we drove quickly. Probably in the fall, these trees were something of a foliage site, but now, like most trees everywhere else, these were almost bare of all leaves. Only here and there, small and tentative little buds were opening, and the light green leaves were just appearing into the world. The gravel sprayed from out behind the tires of my car, as I speed up, and soon, we reached the end of the drive. There was a small roundabout, and behind it, a house. The house was really an ordinary farmhouse in every way, the paint, a soft beige, was relatively fresh, though faded in spots. There was a garden in front of the house, on both sides of the front door, and in it, the farm’s owners were working, planting I guessed it was radishes, since this was the only vegetable which 

“Yes?” Asked one of the Farm’s Owners, as she stood up from her work in the Garden, and took off her gardening gloves.
I stoped my car, and got out, trying to like gather my confidence and my nerve to say what I needed to say, “I am here for the Puppy.” I said as calmly as I could.

Just then, as though on like cue, there was barking, very much excited barking, and a GSD, a large one, came careening towards us, from somewhere behind the house. I was about to jump aside, expecting it planned to greet me, for some reason, but no, instead it greeted both the owners of the farm house. First he came to a complete stop in front of the owner who had spoken to me, let her pet him all over, and then walked up to the second owner, and let him repeat the gesture. He then turned towards me, and I suddenly recognized him, as the same GSD which I had seen in the park, and which had impressed me so... There had been moments when my  desire for a German Shephard had waned, even times when it seemed gone entirely, only to reoccur even more strongly at some later moment. 

This was one of those later moments, and had I been a little less knowledgeable, I would have like no doubt leapt towards the GSD and wrapped it tightly in an embrace. Instead, I looked at it, from the distance, and it looked back at me, in that same expression ate and melancholic way. This is no ordinary Dog, I thought in that moment, and decided that this

is what had so interested me in them and disinterested me in other dogs. They were most certainly not ordinary...
“So you are here for the puppies, good!” The first owner clapped her hands together, and then nodding towards a nearby barn, she added, “Just follow me, the ‘whelping’ box is in there.

I left the window open in my car, for Archie, then I followed the first owner into the barn. The second owner, had left by then to another part of the farm, from the excited shouts and barking, I guessed he had to be playing with the GSD I had just seen.