Puppy Dumb

Jake is a good puppy.

He is also a behemoth; he was 90 pounds the last time anyone weighed him, and he’s bigger now. I mean, he’s a great white whale of a dog.

Nine months old.

I think that’s what gets Jake into hot water. He’s so damned big we just expect him to be smarter, forgetting that he’s not even half-way through his puppyhood. When that is taken into account, he is like a doggie Zen master.

I am moved to remark on Jake today because last night, The Boy took a tumble out of his bed, and the only one who heard it happen was Jake. I don’t remember The Boy making any sound at all until I asked him, “Did you fall out of bed?” But Jake must have run into The Boy’s room as soon as it happened and when we were not immediately forthcoming, began to bark until we finally awoke and came in to put everything right.

I’m not sure the last dog would have done anything but calculate how the situation could best be used to his advantage. If he had opposable thumbs, I believe Obi would have taken over the world by now. And it would not be a benevolent dictatorship, oh no!

But as usual when I should be working, I digress even from my digressions.

So I’ve reinforced The Boy’s bed (his sheets were loose and he cocooned himself right over the side of the bed, so I gave his bedmaking a near military makeover. We’ll be lucky to pry him out of those sheets tomorrow morning) and have been reassessing my ongoing irritation with the dog as well.

He’s three times the size any house puppy should be; we’re used to dogs that are either wise sages or evil geniuses and Jake is puppy-dumb as hell; and we’re busy with our own lives, we don’t have time to entertain both The Boy and the dog every waking, non-working moment.

On the other hand, he may get smarter; he’s already a better cuddler than any of my previous dogs; and most of all, he stepped up and risked an ass-[let’s say]chewing for barking in the middle of the night because a member of the pack was in distress. That deserves recognition and appreciation.

So, good job, Jake! How’d you like to go out in the yard and roll around in your own excrement for a few minutes to celebrate? We’ll hose you off when you’re done, you big, dumb, sweet-natured son of a bitch.