The Oldest Dog In The World

Whenever I pass through Derrianne, MA, I routinely pass by the corner of Grant Street and Salem Avenue. Three houses down from the intersection, on the rolling lawn of a vinyl sided split-level, sits an old doghouse containing “the oldest dog in the world”. The reason I know she is the oldest dog in the world is the cardboard sign that hangs on the front of the doghouse declaring exactly that. I had long ago decided that the sign was telling the truth because there was nothing to be gained in a lie like that. Even if the sign was a deception, faithfully accepting it wouldn’t cause anyone any pain. You’d likely never learn it was untrue.

So I decided to believe.

More often than not, the pitbull mix is laying on her side, eyes barely open, basking in the warm sunlight. Depending on the time of day, the shadows from a nearby willow on the edge of a small pond would sometimes reach the dog house. Rather than disturb her sunbathing, the shade gently tickling the old girl seemed to only soothe her more. I’d never seen her stand up in the dozens of times I’d come past the house, and I’d never seen a person or children in the home’s front yard. It was as though the dog lived in it’s house alone, softly dozing her way to an even more impressive age.

I’d brought my girlfriend to see the oldest dog in the world several times. She found the sign cute at first (“the kids in the house must have painted that”), but seemed skeptical at the authenticity of the record.

“She’s a big dog, right?” she asked but also stated to me, “Big dogs don’t live as long. She’s probably not even the oldest dog in this neighborhood.”

I could get why she’d be skeptical. There’s plenty of reasons why something that amazing couldn’t be true. Of the millions and millions of dogs on the planet, what were the sheer odds that I’d happen to find the oldest one here in Derrianne? Even if the dog were the oldest, what were the chances she would be outside and have a sign declaring so? Even with how often I drove through the town, what were the chances that I’d pass these exact cross streets?

It was probably impossible.

Probably.

“She might be, though,” I replied, digging the half drank can of Pepsi out of the center console’s cup holder, “And if she is… That’s just so impressive. I just want to appreciate her.”

My girlfriend laughed, but her giggles dropped off quickly when she realized I wasn’t joining her.

After a few seconds, she turned on the radio and the sounds of Bruno Mars and Imagine Dragons were the only noises filling the car. Several minutes passed like this while I admired the sleeping pitbull mix. When I sensed my girlfriend was growing impatient, I pulled away and we rode in relative silence the rest of the way home.

I knew she didn’t enjoy visiting the dog as much as I did, but over the years I would still stop by the house off of Grant and Salem even if my wife (she was my wife now) was with me. She’d stare at her phone with pursed lips while I smiled out the window at the resting mutt. Eventually, she asked me to stop driving by the house when she was with me. We had a child now and the extra errands that being a father entailed made honoring that request simple enough.

The route to pick up our son ran through Derrianne, so on the days it was my turn I’d make a quick detour with him. Our son was still only a few months old, but I’d park along the side of the road and show him the oldest dog in the world. His tiny hands would pull at my beard, but I think he saw the dog sometimes.

Years later, I was back to driving alone. I didn’t have my son with me anymore, but now it was a habit to get out of the car and watch the oldest dog in the world. Today, she had her head up, which was a rarity. I smiled at her and she laid back down. She really didn’t look that much older from the first time I saw her.

A woman pulled up in Ford Ranger behind me. She got out of the car and came to stand next to me.

“Come to see Betty, huh”

“I didn’t know Betty was her name,” I said through a smile.

“Yep, she’s been here since I was a teenager”

Perhaps if I studied the woman more intently, I could have estimated her age. I didn’t.

“She’s really something.”

“She mostly just looks lazy to me,” the woman laughed, but after a pause eventually added, “though I guess if she’s the oldest dog in the world that makes her that much more interesting.”

“I think she is,” I said quietly, “The sign says so.”

“So you’re the kind of person who believe the signs,” she said almost to herself, “some people might take advantage of that.”

“Yeah.”

We stood in silence for a few minutes, alternating sips of our coffee.

“I suppose,” she said, “Your way you get to see something amazing a lot of days.”

“I really do.”

We stood there drinking coffee for a while and eventually we got in our respective vehicles and drove away.

I still see the woman every few times I drive through Derrianne and stop by Betty’s dog house. We don’t say much to each other.

But when we do, we agree that it’s amazing that the oldest dog in the world is right in front of us.