Pets are people too, at least mine are. Or maybe they just act like them. I have three dogs, Jake (Great Pyrenees), Samwise (Saint Bernard), and Lester (Chihuahua). These three each have their own distinct personality but somehow each one seems to fit his name.
Jake is our protector, our knight in shining armor. He watches over everyone in the family but especially the kids. When we had to walk my son Thomas to and from the bus, Jake watched us for a week or so. He then took over the job from me. He would wait patiently for the bus to stop then he would take Thomas by the sleeve and lead him up the driveway onto the porch and to the front door. Well, except for the one time he forgot that Thomas was taller than he was and ran him into the branches of the tree in our front yard. Now I’m not sure why he chooses to lead some people and not others, could be something about their mental state, but he always notices when my mom pulls up. He waits for her to open her door then he reaches in and gets her by the arm to lead her to the porch.
He also helps to get the kids on the bus each morning. With five kids, we have two bus runs: the early run for elementary school and the later run for the older kids. When the bus passes our house in the mornings, Jake will come and stand at the front door. If the kids aren’t out there at the time he feels it necessary, he will bang his head on our front door until they come out. He then marches them down the driveway and waits with them until the bus stops. When they are safely on the bus and the doors close, he makes his way back to the house to wait on the next run. He alerts the older kids when the bus has passed and waits to escort them to the road. But however, once these two get on the bus, he watches while the bus stops at the house next door before he comes back home. I think he believes they will sneak off the first chance they get.
Samwise, or Sam for short, is our lazy-bones. He loves to lay on the front porch on his back, right in front of the door. I don’t know if he wants to be a doormat or he’s afraid we’ll leave him. He is also our rock collector. We will watch him carry rocks that are almost bigger than he is into the yard. I think he eats them because we never find them the next day. One day, my husband’s friend Woody came to visit. He drives a Dodge truck with the pipe-like running boards on it. Now it’s not a new model and may have a few rust spots but it still runs great. So Woody parks his truck in the drive and walks over to talk to my husband. They are standing there talking when they notice Sam come ambling up. Well, he walked right over to Woody’s truck, sniffed it, then plucked one of those running boards right off. He carried it out in the yard and began to chew on it as if it were just an oversized chew toy. Woody looked over at Randy.
“Oh, oh Randy. Your dog is eating my truck.”
We rescued Woody’s truck and now he doesn’t leave it unattended at our house.
Lester, well there are lots of words to describe him but none that you can use in polite company. He is a bit spoiled. My husband claimed him when we first got him home and boy has he done a bang-up job of raising him.
Lester likes to sleep with Daddy but Daddy doesn’t like the fact that Lester won’t lay still at night. So after sleeping with Daddy every night, one time he locks him out of the bedroom at bedtime. This left Lester to bunk down with one of the kids that night. The next morning, I got up to get the kids ready for school and Randy had gotten up to go potty. As soon as I opened the bedroom door, Lester streaked in and landed on top of the bed. He looked all around and when he didn’t see Daddy, he walked up to Randy’s pillow. Now you know how your head will leave that dent in the pillow, well Lester hiked his leg and fill that pillow full. Nope, I didn’t kill him, I figured Daddy deserved it for deserting him.
Bathtime is not a pleasant time for Lester and he fights it with all that’s in him. Randy calls him “Twelve Pounds of Bad” and he puts it to good use. My daughter Ally can look at Lester and ask him if he wants a bath and he starts fussing at her. Growling and carrying on something awful. He sounds just like the weasel from the old Foghorn Leghorn cartoons.
Lester loves his treats and when he gets mad, he will find whatever you have hidden. One night, he was upset because we had just gotten home and we had to turn around and go out to pick up one of the kids. We knew we would only be gone about an hour, so we promised him a good treat when we got back and left for town. Well you think one little dog won’t do too much damage in an hour but boy were we wrong.
Two of our sons were selling candy bars as a fundraiser for school. So I had two bags of candy bars stashed on a table beside my chair. He had managed to get into those and get one out. He had consumed three quarters of it. He had also managed to get a box of Pop-Tarts out and open it, then open a package and consume half of that. There were little bits of paper everywhere. I guess he was a little mad that we left him.
I would like to dedicate this post to all of the beloved dogs out there. Whether they are still here or gone on, our love for them will never fade.