Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always had a dog. When I was in first grade, we got a dog named Tippy that followed me everywhere. Before that, I had to make do with my uncle’s dog – who’s name was….Dog.
What’s worse was while my uncle’s name was Lowell…we called him…..Uncle Boy. When we called, “Here Boy, Here Boy! We didn’t know WHO was gonna show up.
When I grew up, got married, and bought a house, my wife Sarah wanted a dog more than anything. We went from shelter to shelter , looking for the right combination of soft fur and big, sad eyes.
We ended up with a black lab named Scout. Scout was an awesome dog, and the perfect companion for our brand new family. We’d drive to the park, with Scout’s head sticking out the car window. When we got to the park I’d open the car door, Scout would leap out of the car and run us around until we were all exhausted.
But one dog wasn’t enough for Sarah. She wanted a companion for Scout. I said that I wasn’t quite ready to expand the family to a kennel, and Sarah initially agreed.
HOWEVER…..
One day I got up, took Scout for a walk, and left for work.
When I got home, I opened the front door, and Scout came bounding from the kitchen to greet me. Followed IMMEDIATELY by an even larger Chocolate lab. I said, “Whose dog is this?”
Sarah answered, “Oh, that’s Chester. Scout wanted a friend.”
I thought Dog was Man’s Best Friend. Why does the dog need a dog?
Sarah paused…..uh, there’s something else.
“WHAT?”
“I accidently got two dogs.”
How do you “Accidentally” get two dogs?
When I left for work, I had ONE dog. When I got home….I had….THREE.
Turns out that Sarah not only committed to get Chester, but also got “Pongo”. Now, we had Scout the black lab, Chester the chocolate lab…and Pongo.
If you’ve seen the movie 101 Dalmatians, you’d know that Pongo is a male Dalmatian, right?
Pongo…..was a female Weimaraner. I think somebody watched a different movie. Pongo was also….in heat. Which was a REALLY different movie.
While Scout was a spayed female, Chester was an un-neutered male….which means that, even thought we had a big 4-bedroom house, we couldn’t have Chester and Pongo anywhere near each other. Since we didn’t have any kids….each dog had their own bedroom.
So, moving the dogs around was like a chess game – Or that math problem you did in school with the fox, the chicken and the corn. You could walk Scout with Chester, Scout with Pongo, but NEVER Chester and Pongo. Unless we wanted puppies.
Fortunately, we were able to take Pongo back to the breeder, who met us one night at her house in Potomac. We pulled into the driveway, got out of the car with Pongo and saw floodlights shining everywhere. When we got out of the car, the breeder ran up to us and said, “Shhh…..they’re mating.” I assume that dogs aren’t that shy, but floodlights and cameras seem to take away a lot of the romance.
We were now down to two dogs, Scout and Chester. It was a bit more manageable, because Chester wanted to do everything Scout did. One day I took the dogs to a local pond, and Scout bounded into the water. Chester followed right behind. I figured it was OK, because Labs can swim, right?
Wrong. Chester got into water about chest deep before he realized he couldn’t swim….and sank like a rock. I’m in a suit and tie, bounding into the pond, grabbed Chester’s collar from under the surface and dragged him back to the shore. After that, I kept a close eye on Chester.
Chester had another issue. A weak digestive system. If he didn’t like the food, he’d lose it. Fast. From both ends. We had to be very careful. So, during the day, we’d crate Chester in the upstairs bedroom to keep him out of trouble.
One day, I came home from work, and as soon as I opened the door….I smelled….THAT smell. I bounded up the stairs to see Chester still in the crate..but he had been sick ALL day….and was now floating in a sea of liquid poop.
I had to figure out how to get Chester out of the crate and clean without getting stuff all over the Rose Pink carpet. Instead of sliding the crate into the bathroom (which would have been the EASY way), I came up with the bright idea of moving Chester, crate and all, down a flight of stairs and into the garage.
I did my best to keep the crate level as I pushed it toward the stairs, being careful not to slosh anything out onto the carpet. When I got to the top of the stairs, I got in front of the crate, picked it up, and brought it down, one step at a time, including the 65lb dog….the Large crate…and the liquid contents.
I FINALLY got the crate into the garage without spilling a drop. I hooked a leash into the crate, got the hose, and spray-cleaned poor Chester off until he could be safely dried and let back into the house. When Sarah got home, she said, “Did you have a hard day with Chester?”
I said….”you have NO idea.”
We eventually placed Chester in a better, single dog home, and he even learned to swim. Scout lived with us for another 10 years, and was the best dog ever.
Ever since I was a kid….I’ve always had a dog….but I think next time….
I’m gonna get a cat.
Laugh in the first 30 seconds…..
