Not too long ago, The Canadian had a dream. The dream, he describes, was about the both of us frolicking happily in a delicious, sunny meadow, with our very own, extremely well-behaved puppy. The dream was so vivid, said The Canadian, that we even had this in-depth discussion regarding the dog’s name in which I conceded to the idea of not calling him the name that I had always dreamed of naming a dog, (Atticus Finch) and instead we decided unanimously (in the dream) that we should call him Gretzky, after the great Canadian hockey player. Just to be clear, this all happened in the dream. I know. I’m also skeptical that this “dream” actually took place.
Anyway let me give you a little history lesson on my experience with dogs:
When I was a kid we had this buck-nut crazy kelpie called Scruffy. When Scruffy pooped outside, my sister and I were so repulsed that we used to wash his behind with a warm, damp face washer in a seemingly futile attempt to keep this animal as clean and domesticated (or Domestos-cated) as possible. One day Scruffy chewed the shit out of my Velcro Catch Ball set which, (circa 1992) was a.k.a The best friggin toy EVER. Anyway I was distraught and I remember staring into Scruffy’s eyes with a look of sheer and utter contempt thinking, “how could you Scruffy? I wiped your dirty dog’s bottom and this is how you repay me?”
Anyway let’s just say that after this, Scruffy and I had a somewhat strained relationship and that I was secretly pleased when Mum and Dad had to give him away to a farm (on account of his mental derangements).
So we picked Gretzky up about 4 weeks ago when he was 8 weeks old. Let me give you his stats:
Breed: English Staffy
Color: Blue
Weight: 4 Kgs
Likes: Paper towel, socks, the taste of Achilles tendons
Dislikes: vacuum cleaners, hairdryers, storms, sleeping alone
We took Gretzky-pup to puppy pre-school for the first time last week and he was thee naughtiest pup in the entire class. He was the ONLY puppy that wasn’t allowed off his leash, the only pup that would bark profusely while the trainer was trying to speak and the only puppy that would try to bite the noses of the other owners when they picked him up. I spent most of the class with my face hidden in my hands. My pup was acting like one of those unruly kids at the supermarket who wants their mum to buy them a Kinder-surprise and throws a mass-tanty when mum says no. What made matters worse was that the most well behaved puppy in the class happened to be Gretzky’s sister, Taj. Taj was the model dog; always allowed off her leash first, always asked to demonstrate the trick before the rest of the class was to attempt and yes, I was a little jealous. I’ll admit it; just a minor case of puppy-envy. I felt like the helpless mother of an uncontrollable toddler, (probably the same one in the supermarket) I’m sure you know the one and have given her your fair share of disapproving, sideways glances too, whilst thinking, geez woman control that kid. Well, I was that woman, and my kid was uncontrollably rambunctious. What bugs me the most about this whole thing is that the cheeky little bugger is so well-behaved when we’re home alone. On command, he can, sit, come, lie down, shake, touch my foot when I say “foot”, lick my palm when I click my fingers and look me in the eye when I say “look”.
I don’t care what anyone says, or the fact that he has a rare but debilitating flatulent odor, he’s awesome and he’s all ours.
Oh my goodness!! He is adorable!!
Loved the lead-up explanation before letting us know that you did indeed get a puppy.. cuute.
Anna
If it doesn't work out with your puppy... I will take him off your hands. Because that dog is the cutesy thing I have ever ever ever ever seen.
Ever.
:-) Also: don't be embarrassed by his marching to the rhythm of a different drum
Http://arealgoodblog.blogspot.com
He is adorable! Thanks for stopping by. We named our chocolate lab Scout....after Scout in To Kill a Mockingbird. I see that we both have incredible taste in reading. Happy dog training....we start in August.