"That Damn Dog..."

[jen w.]

I have just managed to wrestle a soggy glove from the jaws of death. The process requires laser sharp timing. One has to grab a suitably tasty treat (regular biscuits won’t do. It has to be something special like a piece of dehydrated liver). One must then toss the treat in the opposite direction. The shaggy perp will then run towards the treat. But act fast as this may be your only your chance to retrieve the stolen item!  Should your timing be slightly off, the subject will dash back to the item, grabbing it in his mouth. Additional opportunities may not occur before the item is full of holes.

The intervening years of Beasley’s life, until this point, have been full of the usual events many dog owners can recount...and like an overly indulgent parent, I am only too happy to tell them all, ad-nauseum, to anyone who expresses the slightest interest! The common denominator is always my inability to foresee events before they unfold. This owner is a hapless newb when it comes to doodle ownership!

Most people have assured me over the years that “as he gets older, he’ll calm down” Well, here’s the thing. Every time we go to the vet, they have to clear the counter. He lunges up, knocking over the brochures, business cards, grabbing at the plastic jar of biscuits awaiting the “good clients” that visit our friendly vet’s office....We always book our appointments at the end of the day, after most clients are gone.

Once, while awaiting his annual check-up in the examining room, Beasley actually ate the vet’s lunch. In my usual advance reconnaissance of the room, I had failed to note the obvious temptation. Too late! Gone was the banana bread, plastic wrap and all...(and before you worry about the effects of plastic wrap on the canine digestive system, let me assure you, it always seems to be eliminated from his cast iron stomach, one way or another!)

The last time I ate a piece of raison bread was three years ago, on the 24^th of December. As I sat, happily munching on my toast, anticipating holiday events yet to come, I neglected to notice that Beasley had taken three slices of the bread from the counter. He was contentedly finishing off the last of the three in the living-room when I finally noticed. A bell went off ...Raisons! Horrors! Raisons and grapes are supposed to be toxic to dogs! I rushed to the computer, looked up the animal poison control centre and called the 800 number. Sure enough, I was told I’d better get him to a vet ASAP. They were not sure, they told me, how many raisons could harm a dog. There just hasn’t been enough research. One thing was for sure, he had eaten enough to put him at risk of kidney failure within the next 24 hours!

I called the vet and luckily they were open for half the day. Beasley was treated and then offered an entire can of dog food, laced with a charcoal substance to ensure that all the raisons were eliminated. A whole can of dog food! He couldn’t believe his good fortune and despite the unusual flavour of the additive, he lapped it up without hesitation. Long story, short, Beasley was fine, suffering no apparent ill effects from consuming raisons. One might assume that the unpleasantness of this experience might bring on anxiety when next we visited the vet’s office but from then on, a visit to the vet brought happy memories of a free can of dog food! Hence, the excitement he still has when we’re “going to the vet!” to this day!

My father was never a dog person. Yet, ever since Beasley’s arrival, whenever we spoke on the phone, Dad would ask me how “that damn dog” was doing. One fine Father’s Day, my dear but frail, elderly father was over for a visit. A gardener, he was walking around the tiny garden inspecting the flowers. I had set the table outside with lemonade and a lovely father’s day cake, decorated to perfection by my cake-decorating neighbour. 

Dad was standing in the middle of the garden when Beasley decided it was time for some fun. As he so often did, the dog began running around and around the tiny yard, circling my father who stood, rooted to a spot in the middle. Horrified at his imminent peril, my brother, mother and myself were desperately trying to catch the big shaggy before he plowed into dear old dad.

Before we could intervene, however, Beasley saw something even more enticing. He went straight for the lovely Father’s Day cake sitting on the table, snatching the greater part of the cake off the plate and gobbling it down in a flash. Dad never got so much as a piece of his cake that day. “That damn dog” did give us all a good laugh, however!

[Deanna & Desi & Cori]

Such a fun story!  And thanks for the reminder about raisins!  We don't have them around our house too often, but with a 17-month-old granddaughter who loves to "share" her meals with Sedona, it's good to keep the info in mind!

[Linda, Webber and Seda]

More, more, Damn Dog stories!!  This story was so much fun!  Thanks for posting this.

[Ann Kendig]

Loved your story, thanks for the laugh, I needed a good one today!  I have one of those "damn dogs" so I feel your pain...and laughter!  : )

[Barbara B., Sasha & Oliver]

Beasley... you are too funny, I think you and my Oliver would get along just fine :)

[F, Calla & Luca]

More adventures of Beasley, such fun at least for the reader if not owner.

[Bonnie and Kona]

Beasley is entertaining all of DK now. Go for it Beas!

[Doris, Knox & Flash]

Jen, I'm hooked! Lovin' your "damn dog" stories!!

[jen w.]

Yup...it just keeps getting better and better. "Wheeler."?..obviously from the same gene pool! Beasley likes paper towels almost as much as he likes anything else he can steal. Usually, he just shreds paper products, however!

[Jennifer and Jack]

Oh my gracious... that made me laugh....

[Doris]

Thanks for the laugh!