Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, June 8, 1995 TAG: 9506080041
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CHRISTOPHER HENSON SPECIAL TO THE ROANOKE TIMES & WORLD-NEWS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
``Uh-huh,'' I say.
``Well, his name is Cody and he's waiting for you at the SPCA."
I'm in the lobby, signing the papers before I've even seen him. Cody comes running out, jumps on my lap and licks my face. He is a year-and-a-half old shepherd/lab mix and he weighs 75 pounds.
For maybe the first 10 minutes he's in our house, he seems like he doesn't belong to us, but to someone else.
But, soon there's no mistaking it. The mope he puts on when we leave for work in the morning, the two-legged how-ya-doing dance when we get home, the contented gnawing he applies to a bone when we've settled on the couch for the evening, he on the center cushion.
We belong to him.
A dog owner has four basic responsibilities to his pet: food, water, affection and keeping him occupied for every single second of the day.
One way to keep him busy is to leave him in the house alone with stuff you really like. A new couch, for instance.
Cody had been with us for less than a month. We came home from dinner out and he met us at the top of the stairs with happier than usual yelping. "I've done something wonderful," he seemed to be saying. "You won't believe it."
And we didn't.
Our couch, barely as old as Cody, was missing a cushion. And the living room floor was a snow drift of foam rubber bits.
"What do you care?" Cody barked. "You've almost paid it off."
This is nothing. I know a veterinarian with a boxer that leaps up and pulls framed pictures from the walls when left alone.
Another activity, and a natural progression from canine interior design, is obedience training. This is where everyone with bad dogs gets together and chants, "No, No, No, Off, Off, Off," and the least effective, "I said sit, and I mean SIT!"
It's kind of a support group for people with frayed furniture. And no matter how ill-mannered the dog next to you might be, your own dog can and will top it.
Cody's favorite attention grabber is "I'm barking and I can't stop."
"Tug on his leash and say 'shush,'" our instructor says patiently.
Cody immediately goes into his other favorite attention grabber: "I'm choking now! You're choking me, you sadist! I'm going to barf on your shoes." He really can make some revolting sounds.
This is when our patient instructor says, "Maybe Cody would like an agility class instead."
Dog agility is a new phenomenon where people get exercise by pulling bad dogs around a yard, dragging them over ramps and see-saws, and pushing them through hoops. Dogs think this is really fun because they get to watch their masters' faces flush blood red while they shout, "I said jump, and I mean JUMP!"
A dog agility course features an a-frame ramp, a bridge, tunnels and jumps. The object of the agility course is to see how many times a person has to crawl through a tunnel before a dog will. This is usually a million times, although Cody takes much longer.
I'm happy to say that instead of barking incessantly Cody gets attention at agility class by playing another favorite game: "Look at the disgusting things I can eat, will you?"
"Perhaps your dog would be happier in a tracking class," says our patient instructor.
For the sake of what's left of our furniture, we take Cody to the park. He loves these trips because he can go off leash and play with other dogs. He seems to live for it.
At the park there is a constant swirl of happy dogs, chasing each other and knocking over children. With 10 or more dogs, whole cars are destroyed, woodlands razed and milkbones plundered.
Cody mostly loves the park we go to because there is a disk golf course where he can snatch a $400 Frisbee and get a whole bunch of people chasing him. He's not my dog, I swear it.
He can also wallow in mud, gather ticks for winter, roll in shockingly pungent things, and eat out of panicky people's picnic baskets.
My wife and I have to alter our vocabulary considerably around the dog. She cannot say, "I had to PARK the CAR in a garage, but the WALK was a real TREAT." Each of these words sends the poor boy into a frenzy wherein he uses the couch as a sort of high-banked curve. He can only be stopped when we use the neutralizer words: BATH, VET, KENNEL and IN-LAWS.
She could instead say, "I had to cease our automobile's forward progress in a garage, but the resulting foot oriented mode of conveyance was quite enjoyable." But, she really says, "I had to pong the cong in a garage, but the wong was a real trong." I don't understand it either.
Are you looking for some real summer fun? Get yourself the daffiest dog you can find and take him or her with you wherever you go. You don't have to get a puppy; there are hundreds of charmingly insane adult dogs out there.
Dogs are humiliating, sure. But, I look at it this way:
Cody just wants to get me outside, breathing fresh air and taking a little sun. We all need that. That's why dogs are here. To bark until we turn off the TV, put down the paper, and step outside.
P.S. - Please remember to spay and neuter.
by CNB