The Peculiarities of Dogs I Know

I had a cat when I was young. His name was Prince Charles. He was given the name because my family thought it was very clever that my name is Diana, my sister’s Elizabeth and my cousin’s Mary…are you seeing the royal correlation here? So Charlie (not exactly a case for your sanity when you’re yelling out the door, “Prince Charles! Dinnertime! Prince Charles, come get your yummy food!” So casually it was Charlie), came into my life when my parents divorced. He was a fantastic companion, kind of scrappy like me. We played in the cornfield, climbed trees together and this is a bit odd, but he used to hang out between the shower curtain and liner as I cleaned up.

Thinking about Charlie now, I realize that somewhere along the line I jumped ship and went over to the “dog person” side. I guess I got tired of pretending like I didn’t want to pet a cat in order for it to want to be petted when that is ALL I WANT TO DO.

Don’t get me wrong I still love cats, in fact I think I want one for my next pet but I must say there is something about the unconditional, everlasting, somewhat stupid love that dogs give you. I was reflecting on the history of dogs I’ve known and I thought I would highlight some of the behaviors (mostly bizarre) that made me love them.

The Havanese
These crazy-ass dogs are small, hyper and will literally whore themselves out for attention. I’m not kidding, apparently their ancestry entertained sailors on Cuban (hence the name) boats by dancing for long periods of time on their hind legs. Now I don’t know if this is true and I’m not going to bother looking it up so you might be right to have that skeptical look on your face. Regardless, this dancing gene stuck because Gracie and Maggie (the dogs) could cut a rug. The first time I took them on a walk we were waiting at a stop light and when it prompted us to go, I turned around to find them walking in circles on their hind legs for three amused businessmen in serious suits. Todd once waited outside of a grocery store with them and girls were practically throwing themselves at “the guy with the dancing dogs.”



Frank and Haley
I lived with these two pugs in Boise. Frank is almost entirely deaf and blind yet he runs around like he’s a brand new puppy. Sure when you call his name he sticks out his neck, tilts his head, then begins a full-out sprint in the opposite direction of you, but Frank had character.

Haley was nuts. For some reason, she would not lie down when she wanted to sleep. She would just continue sitting, almost like a human because her front paws would just kind of hang on top of her belly. Her eyes would slowly close, blink and open, then slowly close…like watching hypnosis. Occasionally, her head would rapidly fall and she would suddenly wake and circle it back up. A few blinks of confusion and the process started all over again. Just like people on the plane or subway when they are trying to sleep upright.


Boxer
Boxer is a young German Shepard that is owned by Todd’s old roommate. Some how this dog managed to fail as both a fire and police dog. Not the brightest crayon in the box. He was afraid of everyone unless you stayed in his presence for like 48 hours, then he would only give you a glimmer of trust that was inevitably soiled by your two-hour absence. His desire to mount Kya was obnoxious, his mistrust was annoying and he barked entirely too much. Nevertheless, my heart melts when my eyes meet his shallow, blank stare. Given the opportunity to have Boxer as a pet, I would take it in an instant. I can’t really tell you why; I just love that ridiculous dog.


Kya
Kya is Todd’s dog and I suppose mine as well. She has had a decent amount of change in her life despite only being three years old. With Todd’s deployment, weekends up to Omaha and my random appearances every month, she may have felt a bit unsteady at times. But there was one thing that remained constant: her tennis balls. No matter what house she’s at or who is feeding her, those tennis balls are always there and as a result, she hoards them. They are like her precious little babies. Sometimes she’ll just stand over a pile and stare at them for long periods of time. Most of all, you’ll find her trying to fit them all in her mouth. Her record is four, but three is the standard. Even when we are playing fetch (which if you have or know a retriever, this could be played literally for the rest of your life if you so chose) she runs after the ball, picks it up in her mouth, trots back then NEVER GIVES IT TO YOU. It’s pretty maddening because I know she is crazy in love with the ball and doesn’t want to give it up, but on the other hand she desperately wants it to be thrown so she can retrieve it. Why doesn’t she see the correlation? She resembles a bit of a snob too as I’m trying to get the ball. I reach for it and she coyly turns her nose up and to the side. Arrrgh. I used to just say, “Hey okay, well I’m not throwing the ball then.” But that didn’t go over because she would just do this silly nudge thing with her nose where she wedges it under your arm then flings it in the air. So now I’ve developed a surefire technique that involves a light headlock and quick hands. This way we both are happy: I get the ball and with her three-second memory she instantly forgets that I had to dominate her to get it.


Watch her eyebrows; I have a ball that she's following with her eyes.

Dogs are such wonderful friends. They are always there for you. Like right now, Kya is about 8 ft. away just watching me. Waiting to hop up the instant I move and follow me to another room just to lie down again and wait. Is it unequivocal love or shear moronity? Is there really a difference?

Visit your local Humane Society!

Diana

Small thing: The delightful sticky notes that my co-worker puts on my paycheck. The latest one was a little stick figure flicking me off.