Shoes - Mark Maynard

My Vans were the first pair she chose. She rooted into the right one like a pig seeking truffled toe boxes. I knew that what is loved is soon chewed, but she seemed to leave the canvas alone except to bury as much of her head and body into my 8 1/2s as she could. After a quick walk to her potty spot, Rosie, our new 8 week old Labradoodle decided on my wife’s running shoes as her new litter mates. Later, my flip flops, placed by the door for the easy on, easy off convenience for late night potty runs, became her fickle favorites.

Our black stone entry has a wood bench facing the front door and various pairs of shoes belonging to four different humans are lined underneath the bench since it is a de facto house rule that shoes don’t go past the black border of the entry – especially when there is still snow on the ground outside. There are, at any given time, kids’ Vans, dad’s Vans, mom’s running shoes, flip flops, snow boots, slip ons, lace ups and laceless orphans.

Rosie seems to think that she has rediscovered her litter mates and can be found curling up on shoe row with a new partner each time. Her glossy black coat blends perfectly with the glossy black stone and, after dark, we all must be careful not to carelessly slip our socked feet into a doodle dozing in one of our kicks.

From the size of her paws, it won’t be too long before she will be able to slip her own feet into my son’s skate shoes or his brother’s soccer cleats and march through the house clomping on the hardwood floor. I’m a little afraid that she may even be able to slip her paws into a pair of my boots some day and challenge my authority as the alpha male of the house simply by walking a mile in my shoes.

Until then, she is permitted to find the perfect pair that seems the most comfortable in terms of padding, sole, scent and just that certain flair that puppy’s seeking out shoe dens look for. I’m waiting for the inevitable destruction of the first pair of shoes hiding beneath the bench and the odds are stacking in favor of that pair belonging to me. So I offer up my shoes to Rosie and know that one day I will slip my bare feet into a favorite pair of shoes and find something completely unexpected inside, left to me with her compliments.