Sunday, November 02, 2014

Don't Eat the Puppies


My dog might eat your dog for dinner. She loves other dogs. She loves to play with other dogs, especially if they are smaller than her. But my dog will flip on a dime. And she might eat your dog for dinner.

From the moment my pup and I became family, I knew her checkered past might pose a problem. Picked up off of the street with a number of other dogs, my girl lived life as a stray for an unknown amount of time. She was painfully shy at first. In fact, when I visited with her at the Humane Society, she wouldn't come near me. She did, however, sidle up beside my young nephew.

At nine years of age, my nephew exhibited patience beyond measure. He sat quietly on the floor of the tiny visitation room and waited for the skinny, black, lab-mix puppy to come to him. Eventually, she did. It was then that I decided that puppy was my puppy.

The next day, I spent hours shuffling through the adoption process and I brought her home. She shook and shivered all the way. Her ears drooped and her head hanged so low, her chin nearly touched the seat of the car. Once in a while she glanced my way. Her big brown puppy dog eyes pierced my heart. I just wanted to hug her all the time.

It took weeks before she barked for the first time. Evidence abounded that she was previously abused. Every time I picked up my shoes or wrapped up the cord of my computer, she scurried behind the couch to hide. Determined to train her right, I crated her at night, fed her by the clock, and walked her regularly every day. She loved to ride in the car and I took her with me everywhere.

But alas, I am a bad owner. I am a bad dog mom. Before long, she was sleeping in my bed, sharing my bacon, and basically running the house. And as she outgrew her shyness, we started to see her evil side. If I let her, she would devour the mail and the mail man. She can never be off of her leash because she would do one of three things: run away, eat a squirrel, or bite a neighbor.

I have a mean dog.

I loathe the look that people give me when they realize she is mean too. It's that, "why would you have a mean dog" look. Well, I will tell you why. Mean dogs deserve love too. They deserve a good home. I love my mean dog. She might want to eat your dog for dinner. She might want to take out the mailman but... She's mine and I'm hers. And I love her.