DAWG

I usually greet him with "Hello Dawg".  He still thinks his name is "Hey!" or "Stop That!"  He alternately annoys me and delights me.  He is a willing companion, but also gets in my face when I want to be left alone.  On days when I have him inside, he rests his head on the lintel between the mud room and the kitchen (and his paws, if I let him) as if to tell me that he would gladly come and be with me where I am, if only he had my permission.  Every time I go to the mud room to get something from the freezer, or stack/unstack the dishwasher, or sweep, or load the wash, he gets up and wags his tail, hoping that I will give him some love.

He is built like a linebacker.  Given the freedom to run, he could clock 30 -40 km/hour easily.  He has no stop button though, and often runs over Kola without noticing her tumbling.  He has very little insight and a truckload of hindsight - as in "oh right, I wasn't supposed to chew that", or "maybe it wasn't such a good idea to run around this tree clockwise when I am tied up".  

He gets himself in trouble.  He gets into the garbage.  He eats underwear and socks.  And then remembers he isn't supposed to do that.  He gets burrs on his back from going after gophers in the weed garden.  He shows up with scrapes and bruises from going places he shouldn't be.

A few weeks ago, we got a notice from one of our neighbours that he was getting into their fields and spooking the cows and 'if I ever see him again on my property, I will take action'.  Before that, another neighbour put a note in our mailbox, informing us that Henrik barks non-stop when he is tied up while we are gone and it is very disturbing.  So we are in between a rock and a hard place.  Tie him up and drive the neighbours to distraction, or risk the wrath of other neighbours from his unwelcome visits.  Sighhhhhhh. 

So he stays indoors while we are gone, and gets tied up when we are home, unless we are around to let him follow us to the field to supervise the weekend tractor pulls.

He got hurt a few weeks ago.  No one saw it happen, but suddenly, he had a sore on his back, which grew in size and severity from his constant scratching.  I played veterinarian and made him let me soak it in warm water followed by hydrogen peroxide and salve.  He didn't like the treatment.  He knew it was coming and tried to hide from me, when he saw me approach him, bottles in hand.  One day he pushed past the dishwasher blockade, and scrambled into the kitchen and squeezed in behind my plastic drawers.  I couldn't reach him until he decided to come out.  But eventually I won the battle anyways.  After the treatment, I was drenched in sweat from the effort of doctoring him up.  I ripped up an old bed sheet and made bandages and covered the wound as best as I could.  He looked like and old lady with a scarf around his neck, but it gave him something else to think about - how to get the bandages off.  He tried a lot of things.  One of them was to slide along the icy patches in the field sideways in an effort to work them off his neck.  

The picture is evidence of this attempt to escape from the bandage bondage. He got one of them off and wrapped around his front shoulder.  I won that round too.  Don't mess with The Marnster, pal.  Eventually, my efforts were rewarded - he has healed from the wound and now the hair is growing back.  I am not a nurse, but I am also reticient to pay a vet if I don't have to.

I have a friend,  who he knows comes over to go walking.When the leash comes out, he literally does a circle dance and commences his happy whining:  "Yippee, a walk.  Happy day!  A walk!  Yahoo!  Let's go". Round and round in circles he goes.  She loves him like he was her own dog and always gives him lots of attention and love when she is there.   Her voice is a signal that good things are about to happen to him.

Near Christmas, she and I were slated to play a duet at church.  She came over to practice.  No walk that day.  He didn't let it stop him from hoping.  He literally hyperventilated for 25 minutes - it was the most ear-piercing whine/choked out breathing I have ever experienced.  He just wanted to go for a walk so bad and couldn't understand why this wasn't happening.  No matter how much I reprimanded him, he kept the pace up.  WHHHHHIIINNNNNNEEEE-BREATHINGVERYFAST-WHHHINNNNNNNNNNE=BREATHINGVERYFASTWHHHHHIIINNNNNNEEEE-BREATHINGVERYFAST-WHHHINNNNNNNNNNE=BREATHINGVERYFAST-

It was excruciating.  And hilarious.  We finally had to let him outside to get some air, and our ears a break.

It's almost two years since he was born. We did try to sell him, but every deal fell through.  As I was walking him and Kola today, I was thinking that he will probably be the last dog we own.  Slowly, he is winding his way into our hearts.

I don't think he noticed the double rainbow that appeared on our walk along the dike today.

  He was too busy digging for moles.