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Puppy Tales, Part 13

Toby the Dog continues to impress my wife and me.

Here’s the latest demonstration of how well-behaved dogs are supposed to act when you take them out among others.

We went to Petsmart today to look for a couple of dog and cat accessories. The place was a madhouse, full of barking, yapping, yipping and — in some instances — snarling.

Today was adoption day at the pet store, courtesy of the ASPCA, which brings in a number of dogs and cats to find new homes.

So, how did Toby react to all of this commotion?

He didn’t make a sound. Not one bark. Not one whimper. Nothing. He stayed next to us, waited patiently while we looked for what we wanted to buy. He visited with a nice fellow who was in the same aisle as us, sniffing his leg and licking his hand when the gentleman reached down to pet him.

I’ve noted before how Toby doesn’t bark when the neighborhood pooches start in. He’ll bark at the neighbor’s cats when they venture into our yard to tease him.

Today presented another bit of a test for our dog, who’s just a little more than a year old.

I’m happy to report that he sailed through it — with ease.

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Puppy tales, Part 4

Honest to goodness, I do not intend to keep blogging forever on this canine family member.

It’s just that dog ownership is something new to my wife and me. Yes, we’ve owned dogs before, but the previous dog that entered our lives did so more than 25 years ago. We had him and then he was gone.

Toby, as you know by now, came into our lives just the other day. My wife and I have re-learned something about pooches: They do require attention.

We’ve been cat owners/lovers for our entire married life together, which on Thursday hits the 43-year mark. The two cats we own are now 12-year-old siblings. We’ve had them since they were about 3 months old. They rule our house. They set the boundaries. We follow them. That’s how it goes. Toby is learning that lesson quickly.

Socks is our big male. He’s very sweet. He loves people. He doesn’t like other animals. Toby got a lesson on Day One. He ventured too close to Socks, who then hissed at him, took a swing at him and said, in effect: Stay away, Bub, or else. Toby has gotten the message.

Mittens is our female. She’s much smaller, but that doesn’t mean a thing. She holds her own. She’s also pretty shy — around people and she has even less tolerance for other four-legged creatures than her brother. Mittens and Toby haven’t gotten acquainted formally just yet. They will. I believe she’ll learn to tolerate the little guy.

My wife and I are quick learners. We’ve understood all along that dogs are more labor intensive than cats. So no one has to lecture us on the obvious.

I’ll just need to keep reminding myself how happy Toby is to see us when we walk into a room.

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Puppy tales, Part 3

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Message received. I’ve decided to take the high road regarding our new dog’s former owners.

I’d sent out a request for advice on how to handle this situation. We took possession of a small mixed-breed dog over the weekend. His name is Toby. He’s about as sweet as sweet gets. Our great-niece informed us his former owners didn’t want him and so they had decided to let him run loose in our southwest Amarillo neighborhood hoping someone would claim him.

That’s her story and she’s sticking to it.

It angered my wife and me so much we felt compelled to tell our dog’s former owners off.

I’ve thought better of it.

Why? Perhaps the major reason is that I don’t know with whom we would be dealing.

Suppose our niece is correct and the pooch’s former owners are dimwitted enough to turn their dog loose with no regard to his safety. Would they be equally dimwitted to shoot someone who confronts them in front of their house? I decided I didn’t want to take the chance. This is Texas, the place where people supposedly love their guns and are unafraid to use them … correct?

As some of my friends and family members advised me, we have emerged as the good guys in this little tale. Our dog is happy and safe. He’ll make a wonderful addition to the family.

Who knows? Perhaps while we’re walking him through the neighborhood we’ll encounter his former owners who might feel either a little bit of shame over doing what they did or they might feel a touch of gratitude that someone is taking good care of a dog that deserved better than to be cast aside.

Whatever. This matter is resolved happily. Toby has a new home.

 

 

 

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Puppy tales, Part 2

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The first night of our new dog’s life with us went well.

Toby’s his name. He isn’t exactly the kind of dog my wife and I envisioned getting when we realized the time was right. However, he’s quite sweet and well-behaved. We had talked about getting a medium-sized dog, a mutt, a pet that would require as little care as possible.

What we have now appears to be a young-ish smaller dog, a mixed breed. He appears to be a cross between — and this is just a guess — a Chihuahua and a Dachshund. Our veterinarian will be able to give us a better idea.

Now comes the question with which I am wrestling: Do I confront his former owners and tell them what despicable low-lives they are?

I’ve already told the story of how we came to acquire little Toby.

I’m now torn between two instincts: One is to let the former owners’ horrible behavior go unanswered. It was that behavior that compelled them to turn their little dog loose on the streets, to fend for himself with the hope that someone would come along and rescue him. In that regard, the cretins accomplished their goal. Someone did find the little guy. Our great-niece brought him to us and, as fate would have it, he now has become a member of our family — pending our two cats’ approval, which we expect they’ll grant eventually, albeit grudgingly.

Do I want them to sit in their house, all smug and thinking they had succeeded in their terrible strategy?

No I don’t.

That’s why I’m wrestling with the temptation to find them, introduce myself to them and then tell them why I detest what they did. I also feel as though I need an answer to this question: Why in the world didn’t you take the dog to the SPCA, a no-kill shelter just south of town, and have them put the dog up for adoption? Guaranteed, this pooch would be snapped up immediately at the SPCA’s weekly pet adoption program at Pet Smart.

These idiots aren’t exactly neighbors. They live apparently a couple of blocks north of us and around the corner.

Any suggestions would be helpful.

I’m all ears.