Every dog we’ve had since, I feel sorry for. They are compared to Smokey and fall short. It’s not that they aren’t smart, beautiful and sociable animals but Smokey really spoiled me, as a dog owner. And I think one of the reasons I feel this way is because Smokey was a rescue dog. He’d served his purpose, he was retired and now he could go to his forever home. Have you ever seen a child who has never learned the responsibility of earning luxuries in life? They’re the person who sees a toy on a shelf in a store and, upon learning they won’t be receiving that “want” today, they throw themselves to the floor in a fit of rage. When someone earns something, they take care of it, in my opinion. They are less likely to be irresponsible with it because part of the item’s value was a personal investment of hard work to receive it. For me, I have noticed the rescue dogs who were our family pet were loyal and faithful companions because they’d learned having a forever home is a gift. Dogs who haven’t had that life experience simply want to nip at the hand that feeds them and throw a fit when they can’t have their own way.
My sister brought a chihuahua home about five years ago. She’s no Smokey! The dog, not my sister. At some point, for reasons beyond my scope of understanding, she decided she hated my brother. Again, the dog, not my sister. Whenever my brother comes to visit, her hackles rise and she barks ferociously, throwing herself at his ankles trying to bite him as she jumps away from him at the same time. We’ve tried everything to get her to calm down. He brushes her, feeds her, has her sit with him … all to no avail. She’s generally an obedient dog. Just not when my brother comes along. Smokey would never act so disgracefully. A neighbour once called the police saying Smokey was aggressive and something needed to be done as we had no control over the animal. The RCMP stood at the door and pushed it open to step inside. Smokey took three steps forward and barked, hackles up and fangs bared. I was in front of the police man and I was taken aback. This was a side of Smokey I’d rarely seen. Dad was sitting at the table reading a western. He didn’t even look up from his book when he very calmly said, “Smokey that will be enough. Come sit down.” Smokey went to my Dad’s side and sat down. Dad quietly told him, “Lay under the table and be silent.” Smokey obeyed without hesitation. The officer asked a lot of questions and stayed for a time to observe things. He asked if Smokey was the only dog we had. He was. We didn’t need more than him. He was more than enough. The officer thanked us for our time and no one ever returned if more complaints were made about Smokey.
Recently my sister moved which necessitated she get a dog for her new home. She decided she’d get a pup and train it. Sugar plum dreams of creating a Smokey clone danced in her head, I think. Remember the kid throwing a fit in the middle of the store? Cue my sister’s dog. It started before my sister every brought her home. She went to a local pet store (my sister, not the dog) and bought a slightly expensive name tag and collar for it. Expensive - think a good sized bag of dog food, a couple of toys and two dog dishes and it might cover the cost of what she paid for a tag and collar. Again, this dog hasn’t earned these luxuries but it breathes, therefore it is entitled. My sister named the dog “Rosie.” And she picked the dog up and took it home. The next time they came to PA, the dog came prancing into my house as if she owned the place and I made it clear if she left even one scent marker she would no longer be welcome. It’s my home, not her toilet. My sister was a bit offended … “Rosie would never!” Rosie did. On the floor, not the furniture, which was her saving grace. Well that and -35 degree weather. I won’t abuse a dog just because it hasn’t been properly trained. And accidents happen. Hers wasn’t an accident but I digress. Where my sister goes, Rosie follows. And if my sister leaves the house without her, the dog leans on the back of the sofa wailing at the top of her voice. She often stays home so I’m not sure why she throws a tantrum at my place - except that I make her listen. When she takes a child’s toy I make her give it to me and give her one of her own toys. It’s a fair trade. Except she wants her toys to look pristine. It’s not as much fun chewing a toy that belongs to you and also that you have permission to destroy. The third time I have to give her toy back to her and take another child’s toy away from her, I put her on her leash and kept her near me. No more sneaking downstairs to the toy box for more of the children’s toys. When my sister came home, the dog’s true DNA showed itself… she is a RAT! When my sister returned the dog wrapped itself around her legs and whined, crying about the injustices and grievances she holds against me and proceeds to chew on the leash to show her displeasure. This poor dog is so unbelievably entitled. My sister continues to love and coddle it though. Ultimately, I am enjoying the last laugh with several layers of funny tweaking my funny bone all at once. Firstly, “Rosie” is actually a Gus, Tim or Andrew - anything but a she. I’m not sure how someone mistakes girl parts for boy parts but, what’s done is done. They’ve bonded now. Well, one of them has bonded because…. Second, the dog prefers my brother. They’ve instantly bonded and I think if my brother had a place to keep it, he would have taken the dog to live with him already. When my brother comes and the dog is here, she hugs his legs with her body, kissing him and whining in delight. Thirdly, as smart as it is, this dog will never have even a ghosts chance of being a Smokey and fourth … the “Rosie” name tag is now attached to my sister’s key fob for her vehicle. She could have just bought a key chain from the dollar store but no, only the best for Rosie… oh, how Smokey and I would have laughed if he’d been here for me to cuddle him and share this story with him. Nothing compares to him.
A few years from now I’ll likely think back to this story and the sad beginnings “Rosie” and the chihuahua had in making a good impression with me. Smokey will still be number one. Lawdy is definitely number two. The chihuahua and Rosie can fight it out for fourth and fifth place because Otter is number three in best pets our family has had. Otter is my rabbit. She’s the best. Not quite as good as Smokey when it comes to greeting strangers but she comes when she’s called and she has a feisty personality that I really love. And she knows how to calm me down when I’m riddled with anxiety. If I can’t have Smokey, I’m glad to have her. Still, as I watch Rosie and the chihuahua play with each other, snuggle in for a quick nap with one of my boys amongst the blankets on the sofa or stare out the window as the birds feed off the seed bells… I see that even the dogs could still move up the list of best pets we’ve had … as one of the best living pets we’ve had. And whether the dog is acting like a brat, a rat or a pest - it’s a dog’s life and if you’re going to be spoiled there’s not a better place to be.
Take care and have a great week everyone.