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Friday, June 7, 2013

Drop That Shoe!







This is my dog Chewy. Well, this was her six months ago. Who could resist that little fluffy face? I certainly couldn't.  That's how she came to be a part of our family.  She came to us from the local animal shelter, so adorable and full of personality. I just didn't realize how much personality we were in for. No, I didn't name her for her chewing habit as one might think. She's actually named after Chewbaca from Star Wars.

Believe me, we weren't delusional in thinking that it was all going to be easy. We knew what we were in for when we brought home a puppy. We were prepared for whining, cleaning up messes and chewing. So, we brought home toys and watched an endless number of You Tube videos about training your pet.

Fairly quickly we realized that we must have a smart animal (now don't stop reading because of my arrogance here, because it's going to come back and bite me in a minute, literally).  In a little over a month, Chewy was crate trained, she could sit and stay on command and rarely did she have accidents in the house. We thought, "Hey, this puppy stuff is easier than we thought."

But then, as we were patting ourselves on the back and basking in our own glory, Chewy entered her teenage years. Now, this is me making up my own term for this phase in her life. I am not a dog expert and have no idea if she's actually a teenager or not, however it makes sense and so I'm going to go with it.

One day she went from taking command to complete defiance. No longer was anything in the house safe. Dog toys were ignored.  Things like a fresh copy of my writing, magazines, and throw pillows were destroyed with an awe-inspiring viscousness. We are always chasing after her, "Chewy's got another shoe!" We've learned the "double-team" technique to retrieve what she has stolen and we',ve blocked every entrance to stairs and bedrooms. I've had to go back to using the baby gates that I used when my kids were toddlers.

As I'm writing this, I've had to get up more than once to stick my hand down her throat to rescue a lego man. Gross, I know. She's chewed our couch, the headrest in our truck, countless toys and shoes. My kids could legitimately be able to say, "The dog ate my homework."  There are times that I think, "I can't do this. What was I thinking bringing a puppy into our already hectic life?" I've reassured myself that this behavior won't last forever.  Then I recall reading, Marley and Me: Life and Love with the World's Worst Dog by John Grogan. But Chewy's not that bad, is she?

The time she got her head stuck in a bucket.


No, Chewy is just Chewy and we love her, despite the aggravation. You don't stop loving your children when they misbehave and you don't stop loving your pets either.

The silver lining here is, she makes us laugh, she loves us unconditionally, and we wouldn't trade her for the world. I love the way that when I talk to her she rolls over for a belly rub, the way she leans into me with her body to say "Goodmorning," and the way she is always up for an adventure whether it's hiking, biking or just tossing a tennis ball in the yard. She never complains and she's always happy, even when I'm yelling at her to "Drop that Shoe!"

Chewy, the teenager.