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Is it Unusual? by Christine Sharpe  

"It's not unusual to be loved by anyone..."

For many, these words conjure up images of a young 

Carlton Banks
 
sliding from side to side in a Bel Aire

living room.  Some of us
 
laugh; others imitate this crazy

dance.  For me, the images are  different, but I still

laugh, and sometimes, I imitate.
 
As a child, I had a best

friend.  She was everything a kid could
 
want in a friend.

She loved to have fun. She could keep a secret
 
better

than anyone I knew. She even loved to sing and dance. 

Her
 
name was Patches, a rather awkward Border Collie my 

father had
 
picked up from the Humane Society.  From day 

one, Patches was a
 
member of the family, and my best 

friend.  We had a ritual in my house.  Because both my 

parents worked and my
 
brother and I were at school all 

week, Saturday morning was Cleaning Day.  Mom and I would

vacuum and dust, while my brother straightened
 
up his 

room and the play room.  Music could always be heard 

during
 
this weekly practice, and it seemed to pass the 

time.  Even now I
 
can't listen to Barry Manilow without 

feeling an urge to dust.  But
 
one day, while my mother 

played the radio, a new song came on.  It
 
was upbeat and

catchy, and we found ourselves dancing along while we

polished and purified.  The song was "It's Not Unusual" 

by Tom Jones. We really got into the song and soon, 

another member of the family joined in.  Yes, it was 

Patches.  Apparently, our dance had interrupted her sleep,

and suddenly, there she was, on her back legs, dancing 

around with us.  Later, my mother bought the album and we

played it again, learning the words and singing along.  

Every time
 
it was played, there was Patches, dancing on 

her hind legs.  One day,
 while Mom and I sang along, 

Patches surprised us again.  During her dance, she began 

to howl, and it really sounded to us like she knew
 
the 

tune.  I'm sure she didn't really howl in tune to the 

song, but
 
as far as I was concerned, my dog could sing, 

"It's Not Unusual." 

She was always a hit at a party; at least I thought she 

was. 

Many years later, Patches couldn't dance anymore.  

Her legs had grown stiff with arthritis, and she struggled

to walk.  Our days of playing and running were over. My 

dad took her to the vet who said that she was getting 

worse and that we should spend a few days with her before

she was put to sleep.  We knew we had to make those few 

days the best for her, so we gave her all her favorite 

foods, and surrounded her with her favorite toys and

blankets.  My brother and I slept near her those two 

nights, petting her and telling her how much we loved her.

The day he took her to the vet for the last time, I knew 

I had to go too. After all, she was my best friend, and I

couldn't stand the thought of her leaving this world 

without me there by her side.

In the car, I asked my dad to play a special tape I had 

made. The first song on it was...you guessed it... 

"It's Not Unusual."

As Patches lay with her head on my lap, I thought about 

the first
 time she danced to the song.  Then, she lifted

her head, with a brightness in her eyes that I hadn't 

seen in a very long time, and
 let out a long, reassuring 

howl.  I felt that she was telling me
 that everything 

would be okay, and that she loved me. 

To this day, whenever I hear that song, I think of 

Patches, and I miss her.  I laugh, and sometimes, when 

I'm alone or with my family, I'll imitate that goofy

Patches dance or howl along, and we all laugh.        

"It is not Unusual" Christine Sharpe 
 

is a Freelance Writer and High School English teacher in London,

Ontario, Canada.  She is currently working on a short story 

anthology.  She has two dogs, neither of whom sing or dance.

chrishar@enoreo.on.ca