Day 6

I left the house without saying good morning to Copper.  You can't really get away with that when dealing with people.  I have done things like that, but have  recently figured out that I never actually got away with it.  The thing about dogs is, the longer you stay away, the happier they are when they finally see you again.

I finished the back fence on Wednesday evening.  After pounding in the last nail I let Copper off of his rope to test it out.  He went right for the front gate which I had left open.  My neighbor convinced him to come (dogs can't resist getting a little strange love) and I dragged him, back to the yard.   The closed gait provided a new challenge for him.  Ten minutes later, I looked out my front door to see a Golden Lab once again using the neighborhood as his smell gallery, commenting on the more interesting things with a raised leg.  I don't know if he pisses on things he likes or things he dislikes.  And how does he always have enough left for one more expression? He doesn't drink that much water.  How careful he must be to ration his fluids that way.  And why does he need to smell stuff ALL THE TIME? 

I figured out why Copper smelled so bad on Monday, and perhaps why he was not hungry that day.  Yesterday I found the head of a possum on the lawn.  I'm pretty sure it was not there last time I cut the grass.  And if it was my lawn mower that caused this poor animal's demise, I'm sure I would have noticed that too.  No, there is only one thing that causes a possum breath, and wreaking fur that even a dog can't stand.   He washes his face by rubbing it aggressively in the grass.  If you have hands, especially opposable thumbs, take this moment to be mindful.

Boundaries

My remorse began immediately.  I expected as much, just not so much.  I knew I wanted to experiment with some type of commitment.  I had narrowed it down to: dog, tattoo, wife.  I figured getting a dog would be the easiest to get out of if things went bad.  Of course, commitments always go bad; that's why no one should ever commit to anything.  OK, that's material for another blog.

My yard looks a lot different with the new fence in the back.   More classy and kept-up, even though it's a cheap welded wire job.  I haven't finished yet, so Copper still has to suffer being tied up most of the day.  I tried letting him run loose this morning. He immediately sought out the vulnerable spot where I hadn't installed the gate and took off.  

Later, inside the house I found the evidence of the most heinous offense that I had feared:  Copper had pissed on the carpet.   I don't care how bad the marriage gets, a wife would never do something like that.  It will be basement and garage sleeping arrangements until I get the doggy gates.  Crap, do I really have to get doggy gates?

Copper Dog Day 1

It's not a short drive to Cecilia.  My commitment to what I was about to do became more firm with each odometer click.  When I got there I saw nice looking dog on a long chain.  The family that was keeping him seemed sane.  They had obviously made their own firm decision to part with Copper, doing a good job with their low pressure sales (gifting) pitch which included the skillful application of building rapport.  Copper was glad to see me, as is the custom among Golden Retrievers.

I was concerned about the amount of barking,  understandable under the circumstances, I concluded.  After closing the deal, the father asked that I give his daughters a chance to say goodbye.  I was worried that I would have to witness a teary, emotional scene achievable only by teenage girls.  However, it wasn't nearly as bad as I feared.  What worried me on the way home was that they seemed a little too OK with the whole arrangement.  

Copper was more than happy to go with me, jumping into the back of my PT without hesitation.  As I backed out of the driveway, there were no long last looks from either direction.  Dogs don't say goodbye really.  They never really know what's going to happen next, and maybe that's an OK way to live.  No sense of remorse or sadness or "when will I see them again?"  Dogs feel loneliness for sure, but for the remedy of company, they are delighted by anyone with hands.  Really they are kind of slutty that way, shamelessly soliciting physical contact from anyone who comes near.

On the drive home, Copper was not content to lay down in the back.  Apparently, Goldens crave attention, close proximity, and physical contact even more than the average breed.  You want to put your head in my lap?  Really!  But we have just met.  You are a nice and friendly dog, but where is your sense of boundaries?