Would somebody please pinch me? ‘Cause I’m having a really tough time remembering why I went out and got a dog.
They’re cute and loyal and great companions and you thought it would be great for your kid and to safeguard the house. And don’t forget: Man’s Best Friend.
All of that’s true. But I’m a woman. And our 10-month-old black Lab mix is truly tapping into my serenity.
Ahh. A puppy. Why didn’t you say so?
Yes, and? I realize that puppies are notorious for gnawing at walls, chewing on furniture and succumbing to indoor accidents but my primary problem at the moment is with the things my not-so-little Butch has been getting into when we go out into the big world.
Let’s just say he evokes an acid trip-esque Andy Warhol Maurice way before he’ll get billing as Norman Rockwell’s Boy Meets His Dog.
What is it snookums? Go ahead and spill.
Thanks. Last week after an exhausting day of traipsing up to Jerusalem, rushing back to Tel Aviv, ferrying my son to swim practice and buying groceries, I took Butch to the dog park to play. I was reading my book while he romped with his friends Juno and Mitzee.
“Uh..You might want to go get Butch,” Juno’s person suggested, breaking into my reading tranquility zone. “They’re all in the bushes and…well you should probably go get him.”
For the non-dog people out there, here’s a shocker for you (consider this your disclaimer): For an asinine reason I have yet to even want to fathom, dogs like to roll in kaka. And eat it too. And usually they find it in bushes.
So when Mitzee’s person grabbed the stained white Samoyed by the collar and, gagging, pulled her from the crime scene, I knew what was in store for me. Butch was covered in it.
I didn’t gag. I didn’t even speak. I hooked him to his leash and promptly marched him to our front yard for a spigot bubble bath x 2.
The next day I reasoned: Keep him on leash and he can’t roll. True. But he CAN stick his snout through the neighbor’s fence and grab cat poop.
The day after I reasoned: He needs to run free or he’ll go nuts. I’ll take him to a different park where perhaps there are no treasure bushes.
Which I did. And as I sat reading on the park bench, off in the distance I saw him toss something small in the air with his mouth and when it landed, flip on his back and roll over it.
Disclaimer #2 for the non-dog people: Animals roll in dead animals. I dunno. Don’t ask.
This was a dead mouse he had unearthed somewhere. You’d be amazed at the powerful stench one tiny carcass can radiate. Especially when a 90-pound dog has rolled over it.
March home. Bubble bath #2 in as many days.
I’ll save the other bits. There are more. But in the name of good taste (har dee har) and at the prompting of my life coach who advises focusing on the positive, I stop here and instead call up some good points.
- My son loves him and the two together are wonderful to behold
- He’s a great watchdog
- He is very funny without trying to be
- He’s an incredibly good natured & playful dog
- He will grow up one day
Thank you for indulging me. Over & out.