August 9th, 2010

MAN VERSUS DOG

Owning, raising and caring for dogs in general is a tremendous responsibility requiring time, commitment, patience and love. Creating great companions and producing dogs you are proud to call your own takes much more; not from them, but from you.

As the owner of two German Shepherds, I am challenged more than most by my dogs. By nature, the breed is intelligent, conniving, stubborn and stand-offish; and those are their good qualities. My wife and I decided long ago, one year into owning our first German Shepherd, that the next one we get will be named “dick,” because that’s what we call our dog most often. Shep is a dick; a big, giant, challenging, asshole of a dog who is such a dick.

For example; on any given day I can put Shep and his sister Nellie outside in the backyard to frolic amongst the grass, wrestle with one another, chase birds and enjoy the sun. They will be content and happy to entertain themselves for an hour or two knowing that their time away from the inside of the home and their human companions is temporary and perhaps even welcome. They behave perfectly on these occasions, never needing oversight or correction.

Yet, if I am to have the audacity to have a few people over to the house for a work-related meeting, Shep will use that opportunity to shift into “Dick” mode and begin a barking fit for the whole neighborhood to hear, demanding my attention. As I walk to the backdoor of the house, sternly calling his name, I can hear Arnie and Dawn mocking me, thus implying that Shep has gotten the best of me, which he has. He does this on purpose, he does this to try my patience, and he always wins. He is a Dick. He is, in many ways, so much smarter than me. He knows how and when to push my buttons and he gets off on it; and that’s why I love him.

I refer to Shep more than Nellie because Nellie is the opposite dog. She follows Shep, but she has picked up none of his dickhead qualities. She’s a pleaser; Nellie, abused and neglected the first year of her life before my wife and I rescued her, just wants to be loved and refuses to play Shep’s game of “chase the asshole.” Nellie does as she’s told and doesn’t start trouble; Shep is the problem; which means, of course, I am the problem.

That damn dog has taught me more about me than any person ever could.

And let’s not go too far without establishing something of the utmost importance; Shep is the exact dog I wanted. He is not perfect, though I have never met a dog who is, and Shep is imperfect by design. He is exactly what my wife and I wanted (though we didn’t envision all of Shep’s personal intricacies at the time) when we set out on this journey 5 years ago. He is a trained (by me) guard dog, so he possesses, by design, some qualities that make him “less than perfect.” He will not sit quietly and contently at the front door when the UPS man arrives with a package; left to his own devices, he will eat the UPS man, or at least make the UPS man aware that he is capable of it. Shep is not dangerous, as long as my wife and I are around, but he is protective; exactly as I wanted. And he is capable of much more than intimidation if needed; a quality, I am proud to say my friends are stunned to learn Shep possesses. My friends see the loving, quiet, calm Shep, just as it should be.

Shep is equally as playful as he is protective. I never saw a dog so in love with chasing a moving ball. He is also incredibly loving; no cuter sight is to be seen than when that giant horsed-face dog plops his seemingly 75 pound head on your thigh and looks up at you with his tired tongue hanging sideways. Adorable doesn’t begin to describe it.

As for personality, Shep outdoes most humans. He pouts; when he wants to play and has to wait, he turns his back to us. When he wants to walk around and we tell him to lie down, he does, and he lets out a huge sigh while doing it to make sure we are aware of his displeasure with our command. And when it’s 2:31 in the morning and I haven’t gotten up at my usual 2:30, he comes to the side of our bed and puts his giant wet nose right on my face and nudges me awake; he’s been doing this for the last 5 years without fail…even on the weekends…that’s why he’s a dick. How can he be so smart and not comprehend the human calendar of two days off per week? Dick.

Shep challenges me everyday to be a better man, and on most days I lose. I wish I could be like him; I wish I could turn my emotions on a dime, forget what happened 2 minutes ago, have such a carefree attitude about life as to not dwell on meaningless petty things and maintain a loyalty that is unmatched. And I wish more than anything that the only thing in all of existence that I was afraid of was a vacuum cleaner. I admit it; my dog is a better man than I am, but at least I am still trying; and at least he is still trying, which is wherein lies his beauty. Shep never gives up on me; everyday he tries a little harder, maybe a little differently, to make me a better person. It doesn’t matter if I let him down the previous day, he just wants to me to try today.

So today, no doubt, he will have a new test for me; either he will try my tolerance or my patience or my bravery or my ability to be spontaneous and creative. If it’s like so many days before, I will move a little farther forward in life towards becoming a human worthy of my dog’s love, content in the knowledge that he will never actually demand I earn his unconditional loyalty.