Dogging It...

I have a man in my life.  He, like most men, is a pain in the ass.  But, I love my little man.  I hate my little man.  I am held prisoner by my dog.  I don't know why I needed a dog.  I just did.

We have a routine every day.  He loves the consistency of the routine.  The routine goes like this:

1.  Wake up at 7 am
2.  Punch the coffee, wash my face, brush my teeth, pony up my hair, pull on some sweats, let Bob out of his kennel.
(I make him sleep in the kennel at night because he wanders around and wakes me up at night.)
3.  Walk out the door while Bob tugs the leash trying to run.  He spins circles round and round while we wait for the elevator.
4.  Elevator doors close, Bob presses his nose into the corner of the door, bolting out and spilling my coffee the moment the door opens, and races for the door.  I think..."someone needs to pee"....Bob knows enough that if he holds his pee and his poo he gets a longer walk.  He has amazing bladder control.  We walk three times a day.  One long, one short, one long. 
5.  He drags me across the street but instead of peeing right away, he will circle the same area at least 15 times looking for "just the right spot" to relieve himself.  As he pees, he is looking at the other dogs out there, and like most men, he has a short attention span, and before he is completely done, he begins walking to the other dogs, dribbling pee on his paw.  (This is the equivalent of a man not shaking twice and dribbling pee on the toilet seat.  Don't ask me how I know this, but it is the image I get EVERY time Bob does this.) 
6.  At this point, Bob is so excited to start the walk, he is dragging me across the street.  Depending on the leash I have snapped on this morning, he controls his walk OR I do.  Lately I've been using the regular one and not the retractable one, as I've had some not so constructive criticism regarding Bob and the retractable leash.    Bob...or as known in other circles, "His Royal Highness," runs the show here, and I know he likes the retractable one.  

Apparently, I'm not a very good dog owner/trainer, and Bob is not only poorly trained, but has no manners.  I've been shunned at the dog park by a woman who is the Boss of Everything, Director of the Universe and Chief KnowItAll of all things 'dog'.   She also has a darling  Golden Lab puppy named Sage.  She talks so loud that I can hear her talking every morning through my open window, five floors up, when I'm still in bed.  Who needs an alarm clock?

At this point, I would like to make it perfectly clear, that at first, I liked her.  I liked her dog and I was impressed at how well behaved Sage was.  Bob loved playing with Sage.  On his retractable leash, he could run circles around me over and over outrunning Sage while I lassoed the leash above my head.  But Sage had a thing for grabbing Bob's leash in his mouth and Bob and Sage would get all tangled up.  Then Sage became the bully of the dog park.  Picking on poor cowardly Bob.  Sage started grabbing on Bob's neck with her teeth.  Bob would run between my legs crying and cowering.  Bob is a mess.  The Boss Lady would loudly, but gently, reprimand Sage and offer a treat, then give her positive reinforcements..."Good Sage".   She never gave Bob a treat.  She didn't want to share I guess, as Bob is such a shit.   I never bring treats.  I have a leash in one hand, a coffee cup in the other, a doggie poo bag and my house keys.  I have no room for treats.  Why does Bob need treats at 7 am?   Bob doesn't need treats, I need coffee.  Three days ago, Boss Lady decides that Bob and Sage can't play together anymore.  Bob is a bad influence.  Every day for 2 months, I see Sage and the Dragon Lady as she loudly brags about how great her kid is...oops, my bad...I mean DOG.  (Insert sarcasm)

Now I get up in the morning, walk across the street and Sage and her obnoxious loud mouth owner are nowhere to be found....they changed the meeting place and she has told all the other dog moms in the neighborhood not to play with Bob.  Poor Bob is not very popular.  Sage thinks she is the shit. 

I tell Bob not to listen to the other dog's teasing.  I tell him to turn the other jowl.  Most of those dogs are older than Bob...they will die first.  He will have the last laugh.  But Bob's feelings are hurt.  "Never mind them Bob" I say, "We will get you new friends".

My new running partner Kate has two dogs.  Addie and Killey.  Addie loves Bob.  Killey is at that age where she still hates boys.  Yesterday, I was supposed to run with Kate but was too sick.  Everyone knows that when you're a mother, you can't be sick..Bob needs to pee so we follow routine, only this time I have a wad of kleenex in my hand, my keys, my coffee AND...the retractable, politically incorrect, leash.  Just as I'm walking out the door, Kate calls me and says, since we can't run, why don't we meet in the big park and let the dogs run?  I agree, off we go to the park.

As we arrive in the park, I see a couple other people with their dogs in the distance.  I don't see Kate yet, so I walk toward the middle of the park and un-clip Bob's leash to let him run.  He makes a beeline to the other dogs in the distance, as I am walking (read: chasing and yelling) I realize, smack dab in the middle of the park is the Director of the Universe herself, holding court with the other owners and their perfect little dogs.  Bob runs balls out to the center of the circle, knocks Sage from behind and the two start their chase game.  I say hi, and everyone just looks at me.  Miss Director, with her very loud, very obnoxious voice says, "I see you're still using the same leash,' I look around at all these accusing eyes on me and say "Uh....yeah, the other one was, um...dirty."  Listen, I can take a hint, I know what happened here.  Boss Lady organized a boycott against my poor little Bob and now none of the other dogs are allowed to play with him. 

Luckily, I notice Kate walking toward the group with Addie and Killie.  Kate doesn't know Bob isn't allowed to play with the other dogs.  In a moment she joins the group and lets her dogs off the leash and now its complete chaos as Bob, Sage, Killie, Addie and a very scary looking Pitbull named Valarie, with a spike collar, (who I might add, is drooling and snapping and straining at the leash)  are running in circles, dragging their leashes and barking at each other.  To make matters worse, Bob runs between my legs, lays down submissively, while Sage has hold of his leash.   I stumble, almost falling again, narrowly avoiding another "Bob" accident,  Bob stands up, takes off toward the street, with all the dogs except Valerie the killer dog in hot pursuit.  Miss Big Mouth does her thing, pulls out the treat bag, calls to Little Miss Perfect, and she obediently trots back, plops down and waits for her treat.  Big Mouth looks at me with a triumphant grin and says,  "Good Girl Sage, Good Girl!"  Gives her a treat while all the other dogs look on with envy.  Sage looks around, and I have a de ja vu moment...she looks like Nellie from Little House on the Prairie.

Poor Bob hangs his head for a moment, ashamed.... hungry for a treat...all of a sudden,  I see him look up between his lashes with those sweet little brown eyes and he is smiling.  He looks around at all the other dogs...winks at them and prances off a few feet.   The other dogs look around at each other, then they look over at Princess Sage and her evil mother...and follow Bob.  At this point, Kate pulls a bag of dog treats out from between her breasts and gives treats to everyone....even Sage.   Kate is my hero.

This should be the end of this tale, but ever-so-wise Kate looks at me and says, "You know...you really should get a different leash."  I love Kate.

Bob and I walk back to our building.  He is no longer tugging me along.  He is walking next to me, tuckered out from playing with his new friends.  We take the elevator upstairs and begin the second part of our daily routine.  I pour another cup of coffee, give Bob a cup of dog food.  He trots over, sniffs the food, turns his nose up...and begins yet another hunger strike.  Sigh... this damn dog.  Why did I want a dog?  The answer?  I thought I needed one...

One look in those big, sweet, puppy eyes....He had me at hello.