We acquired a new dog this past fall: Rocket's Doc Marley. Seven months old with a head as hard as calculus. Everything is something to be picked up and run with...and then destroyed.
Right now he's rolling on the floor, playing with a nickel. It doesn't appear he's going to swallow the coin, just roll it around in his mouth, drop it, pick it up and repeat. No, he just ate it or it slid down his throat by accident. Eating money is probably illegal. Marley, as Patrick calls him, or Doc as I choose, is in trouble with everyone in the house. Might as well have the Department of Treasury on his case too.
We discovered an effective tool to stop Doc Marley in his tracks (now he's chewing a rug), bark at him like another dog would. For some reason "Arf Arf Arf" is better understood than "Damnit Doc, put that plant down!"
Doc and Cathy have a special relationship. She tolerates him much better than I expected and takes a firm approach with the animal. Cathy lets Doc know what she thinks of him when he makes a wreck of some household item. When she's cleaning up the pieces Doc lets Cathy know what he thinks of her stern scolding...he runs up and nips her in the butt, and then scoots away. The nip is just a tiny one, but enough to cause a shriek from Cathy. Once caught, Cathy wheelbarrows Doc to his kennel for some quiet time. (I know, the kennel is not to be used for punishment...it's a "safe place".)
For Christmas I gave Patrick the book Marley and Me. I received the same book as a gift from my sister Kathy and her family.... Doc just choked himself on a chew bone and I stopped writing briefly to see if he needed a dog version of the heimlich maneuver performed. Patrick is reading his book. I returned mine and bought two CD's, Johnny Cash and Eddie Arnold. I'll read Marley and Me eventually; for now, living the story is enough.
Patrick and Marley get along very well, provided Marley stays out of Patrick's basement space. Patrick has a problem with Marley picking up his stuff. Actually, Patrick has a problem with Patrick picking up his stuff. I can' t blame Marley, the volume of debris scattered around Patrick's rooms must make the retrievers head spin "I gotta get this shoe, no this shoe, no no this shirt, this can, this bag of donuts, no I better grab this pizza, or or maybe this hat, this jacket, I gotta have this jacket, oh no, here's a pillow. I love pillows...ahh a blanket, a shoe...."
This Chesapeake Bay Retriever loves to run and swim. They need lots of exercise and Doc Marley gets some but not nearly enough. Friday we go to Iowa for two days. I intend to wear him out, even if it means he walks home.
Tom
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