97/365: Dexter’s New Chew Toy
Boy, does my dog ever love me. Not only that, but when I come home from the grocery store with bags of meat (beef, chicken, pork), he probably sits there in a state of pure awe! I’m akin to a god in his mind. The greatest hunter on earth… ever!! And I’m his master! He must think he’s the luckiest dog around. Period.
He shows me how lucky he is by following me around the house, sitting with me and watching t.v. while I scratch his ears, listening to my commands (… usually), and he wags his tail so hard when I come home that he actually forms the shape of a “U” (and walks toward me at the same time – which I think is pretty incredible). He has given me so much joy on a daily basis, that after 8 or 9 months of his constant presence, I don’t want to even think about not having him in my life.
That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Granted it’s rare, but from time to time…. well, before you think I’m cruel, let me give you an example. Before Dexter, none of my furniture had teeth marks in it (now about 70% of it does, plus a remote). Before Dexter, no one came running into the house on rainy days trailing muddy paw prints across the floor and up over the couch… repeatedly. Before Dexter, no one ever looked me in the eye and crapped on my floor (granted, it’s been about 6 months but the image stays with you, ok?). Dexter chewed up my pay cheque. And at this time, my boss was on vacation for two weeks. Luckily, I was able to sufficiently tape it together, missing only a few small pieces that I had no intention of waiting for him to make a bowel movement to find. The list goes on.
Like I said though, thoughts of not having him around are rare. In fact, I discovered about an hour ago, I don’t remember the last time I had that thought. While I am writing this entry, Dexter is hiding behind the arm chair. He’s been there about an hour now. I didn’t tell him to go there, I think he’s punishing himself for his K-9 weaknesses.
I come home after dropping Amy off at work, and I see a chewed up chocolate bar wrapper on the floor. Some how he opened the coffee table and got it out. I get a little frustrated and give him a sigh. Mostly because chocolate isn’t good for dogs, and now Amy will think I ate it. So I look at him and he lays down in the hallway, rests his chin on the floor between his two front paws and averts his eyes away from me. Brings his eyes back to me, eye brows raised, then averts them away. Back. Away. … Back.
Oh no, I think. “Dexter!? What did you do?” He’s allowed me to get to know him enough the last little while and I can tell the guilt that I see in him is a total over reaction to a chocolate bar. Then I notice the office/spare room door is open. We try to keep it closed, especially if we’re not at home. We keep a bunch of camera gear and computer stuff in there.
I walk to the room and he runs away, and I notice that what ever is laying in pieces in the middle of the room was once a piece of electronics. For an instant I panic, but then realize it’s our camera card reader. Phew. Crappy luck, but thankfully it’s not a camera or flash or something more significant. I come out of the room, tell him he’s bad. Only now, as I write this has he come out from behind the chair.
So, I’m a little irritated, but the thought of Dexter not being around never entered my mind. Not for a second. Not this time. I guess he’s genuinely influenced me with all the love he spews at me every day. He’s showing me that he’s a dog, and sometimes dogs chew stuff, given the opportunity. As well, he’s given me a photo for today. So how can I be mad at him now!?