There’s a new dawg in town…

His name is Obi, for Obadiah. I started out wanting to name him “The Dude” after Jeff Bridges’ character in “The Big Lebowski,” but he revealed himself pretty quickly to be a dog who was not going to mellowly abide. But the Jeff Bridges thing stuck in my mind, and I thought, “What else has he been in?” I loved him in “Thunderbolt and Lightfoot,” but couldn’t remember which character he played. He sure ain’t no Lightfoot, and anyhow, Jeff Bridges’ character dies in the end. Bad name karma. Then I thought of Obadiah Stane, the villain he played in “Iron Man.”

Obadiah. Sounds Biblical, has heft. You don’t fuck around with an Obadiah. You just don’t. And for while he’s a puppy, Obi is a perfect, cute nickname. Easy to say, easy to scream at the top of your lungs as he stands there in the middle of the back yard, looking at you like he’s trying to remember if he knows you. Easy for The Boy to say.

Obi. Obi-wan. It trips right off the tongue. Honestly, I think I was married to it the moment it popped into my head. He just seems like an Obi right now. All puppy – gangly legs and gnashing teeth. Oh, the stuff that we’ve lost already. He ate a nice pair of The Missus’ shoes when she was out of town last weekend, seat cushions, plastic cutlery, all forms of paper, the blanket we put in the cage to sleep on at night. Our legs, arms hands and feet…

He spends a lot of time in the muzzle, because he can be hip deep in trouble in less than 2 minutes. Unless me or The Missus has eyes-on, he’s wearing his face furniture.

The Boy began immediately upon introduction to establish boundaries. Indignant howls of “No, Obi, NO!” and “Obi GET OUT!!” have been bouncing off the walls since the day we brought him home. “Get off the couch. MY COUCH!!” is also a very popular selection.

Unfortunately, he really, REALLY hates the 3 dogs next door. Every trip to the back yard to do his business is interrupted by his hackles shooting up in mid-stream, followed by the barking and slamming his maw into the fence where one of the neighbor dogs is doing the same on the other side. And of course he ignores vocal entreaties to cease and desist, no matter how forcefully issued, so the issuer just looks like an impotent asshole, yelling at his unruly dog to no effect. And when you go to grab him, he spaghettis out of your grasp and runs back to the fence to re-launch his neighbor-eradication program.

The back yard is just not Obi’s friend. There’s a couple of mockingbirds who have selected him for termination. If his “business” isn’t interrupted by remembering how much he hates the dogs next door, he’s getting dive-bombed by the irate mockingbirds. So far they’re only targeting his ass, which is pretty hysterical to watch, but The Missus has told me horror stories about this kind of bird going for their enemies’ eyes, which is not half as funny. I’ve taken to guarding his dumps with a yard hoe. One of these days he’s gonna grab one of them stupid fuckers in flight and give it the last surprise of its life.

Otherwise, things are good. He likes to roll around in the grass, repeatedly, until he’s rotated a full 360 awkward degrees and more. Also hilarious to watch. He cuddles, he takes shit from The Boy (a definite prerequisite), he pounds on the back door blinds when he has to go out... Other than being a social malcontent (which it would be clearly hypocritical of me to hold against him), I think I’m looking at going 3 for 3 on dogs.

Here’s to the dogs that make the cut. Welcome to our world, Obi.