Dog People

 So we have this dog.  He is a year and a half.  He is still a wild puppy at times..but is growing into a full fledged family member lately. You see, neither  Walt or I have had a dog in a long, long time.  Luke has never had a dog.  The opportunity presented itself a year or so ago..and we luckily adopted him.  It took a lot of getting used to.  He tried to train us the best he could, but we were pretty stuck in our ways. We were used to being able to just pack up the child and go.  But now we have to pack up his bag too.  Or take him to his vacation home..which by the way, he knows when we turn down Arthur Street, he is going to play for 20 hours, sleep a little, play more and get treated like the king he thinks he is.   We actually took him on the road with us a few weeks ago...and let him sleep at the end of the bed, at the pet friendly hotel.    Oh I know..all you "real" dog people are either cussing at me for not letting him sleep on the bed already or laughing, because you knew it was bound to happen.     I just wanted the couch and the bed to be dog-free in our home.    That is not a crime.  There are 50 cushy things for him to sleep on.   I have one bed.  White covers.  He is outside a lot.  I would like the covers to stay doggie/dirt/brush free.  So.  We (meaning the husband and the child) thought it would be OK for the king to sleep at the foot of the bed...just for the weekend..at the hotel. 

Now where do I find him every time I can't find him?   On our bed.  Like he owns the damn thing.  I shoo him off.  He waits until I am busy cooking or something..and bam.  Back on the bed.  It's like he knows that I have 2 rules...and can't wait to break them.    No bed.  No couch.  Oh he really got me the other day when I gave him a bath.  I dried him off really well.  15 towels and a blow dry.   He still ran around the house like he was on crack.  Turn around for one minute..one minute..and where is he lounging/rolling around?  On my clean,  white bed.    Here is where I insert what I think he thinks his name is...lets just say that the initials are g. d. m. f.   I have called him this many times.  Scratching at the door to come in..right after I let him out.  Scratching his way through the screen in the kitchen window.  Barking incessantly at the dog on the other side of the fence..because he knows that I always..I mean always open the door and tell him to stop. Then he runs away from you,  if you try to catch him to bring him in the house.  He will fly like the wind, and smile that big white on black smile..as you try to lasso him in your underwear.   While taking out the trash, he will bite at my ankles.  Like,  really bite.  He thinks its a game,  me running to take  out the smelly trash.  Sometimes he will bite the trash..and make it spill all over the backyard.  So I will yell and call him his special name.. to my neighbor's delight..as he steals a chicken carcass and runs like he is auditioning for a greyhound scout.    He makes me crazy.  On our walks..if he even hears the teasing chuckle of a squirrel, he will, without warning, pull me to San Antonio to catch him. On our return, even if we have been gone a long while,  he will stare out our kitchen window and keep watch for his nemesis.  He will protect his family from the squirrel brothers in crime.  One squirrel does that ha-ha-tail-lifting-dance on the edge of the fence thing..while the other steals the bird seed.  He will run from one end of the house, jump over random visiting children..to get to his other post.  The bedroom watch and the kitchen watch.  At times, I will open the door and he will bolt out like a bullet..just in time not to catch a thing.  Being 1/2 standard poodle..he will rise up on his hind legs, like he is about to take part in an old lady conga line..and look in the bird feeder.  Our neighbor's oak tree hangs so low over our fence, that he can put his 2 front paws on a limb and scope out the entire underbelly of the tree..just in case they are lurking, waiting to pounce.  This will last for hours.  The other hours he is keeping watch of me..so he can claim his dutiful place..on my bed.

What do we call this wild crusader of bed claiming and squirrel-wrangling?    Well, you know my name for him, but the family calls him..."Ranger".  Lately we have begun calling him "Wayne-Joe".  Imagine a little kid with a speech-challenge saying his name.  Yup.  Sometimes we just call him Wayne. 

Poor dog.  All these names and no place to sleep.  I can hear Sara Mclachlan now.  

Now before you turn me in to Caesar Milan..I have to say that our house feels empty when Wayne is away.  Like today..he had an earache..and had to stay at the vet a few hours.  It was weird without him here.  I miss him.  Luke comes home from school and the first thing he does is call for Ranger.  The dog will maul him and act like he has not seen him for decades..every day.  When Walt is on the road,  the pup will walk from room to room at night, making sure that all is secure, before he sneaks up on the edge.    I like him.  I like him a lot.  I am learning so much about this life with dog.  He is teaching me things and expanding my heart.   I get you dog people a little more now.  Not the dog -park people, but the healthy, dog people,  that we know and love.    So if you see a girl getting dragged by a big black bear in Austin..it's just me..along for the ride.


Wednesday, January 23, 2013
11:50 pm
Wayne-Joe asleep on my feet

Comments

  1. Oh Tina! This is beyond great. You just described what every dog lover knows and loves about their pups. You can express it like no one else! God bless you all and "Wayne"...you just made my day. Now I need to go hug my three.

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  2. So you have this blog. It is a month and a half blank. *wink*

    *Runs away before you look at mine and throw it back in my face ;)

    ReplyDelete

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